Should You Write a Novel? 5 Questions to Ask First

Ah, the modern novel. A form so myriad, so full of potential, that even to consider writing one unleashes a world of possibilities… and a slew of questions. Yes, it’s an exciting prospect — but how can you figure out if you should really write a novel or not?

During the pandemic, I wrote a short novel called Signal Fires which was unlike anything else I’d ever written. I tend to gravitate toward literary short fiction, crafting quietly observational stories that max out around 5,000 words. Signal Fires was totally different: a fantasy romp of 50,000 words, with a romantic subplot between the two main characters (in the vein of Leigh Bardugo, whom I was obsessed with at the time).

Writing this novel was an incredible experience that taught me so much about my own creative methods and writing as a whole. That said, it also taught me that you can’t just decide to write a novel and it will simply come pouring out of you; you have to commit to the process.

On that note, if you’re considering writing a novel yourself, here are five essential questions to ask before you attempt it.

Am I passionate enough about this idea?

More times than I can count, I’ve come up with some “great idea” for a novel, only to swiftly abandon it after jotting it down in my notes.

Indeed, most of the time when I do have a decent idea, I’ll turn it into a short story — because I don’t have the patience to develop it into a full-length novel. Even with Signal Fires, I only managed about 50k words (which any seasoned novelist will tell you is just over the defining threshold).

I’m not trying to sell myself short, or discourage you from trying! I’m only saying that if you’re going to make it across that finish line, you need to love your idea. It should be a concept where you feel invested in every element: the characters, the conflict, the setting, and so on. You should want to keep adding more and more details to your world — even if you don’t end up using those details in your story — simply because you love what you’ve built so much.

That doesn’t mean your novel must arrive fully formed in your mind, but it does require a seed of passion from which the story can grow. Take this moment to think about your idea, and whether it has legs. Sit down to do some serious brainstorming; think about which other novels might inspire this one; or consider exploring a small slice of your world in a short story.

This was how Signal Fires began: I tossed out a quick 2,000-word character study of my main characters, and found myself wanting to write more… a lot more. It started slowly at first, then snowballed into a whole adventure involving elemental powers, a plot to overthrow the government, and a forbidden romance between two people with very different political motives.

The experience of writing this novel was a combination of pure joy and giddiness — from creating my characters and having them interact — and a more grounded sense of pride in the complex world I was building, and the message I was trying to send. It was this combination that carried me through to the end; without that genuine passion, I don’t know if I would have finished the book.

Do I have the time — or am I willing to make the time?

The other crucial ingredient in the delicate soufflé of novel-writing, as far as I’m concerned, is time. There are many schools of thought on this: some say that even the busiest person alive can make time for writing if they want to, while others insist on the sanctity of time, space, and peace, “A Room of One’s Own”-style.

My own views fall somewhere in the middle. You can force yourself to write during the most hectic seasons of life — and your writing may even improve for being more pressurized! — but when tackling a long-term project like a novel, I do agree nothing beats the luxury of time. This is why writers’ retreats and MFA programs exist (or at least part of the reason): to carve out vast swathes of time devoted purely to writing.

The conditions around my own novel’s completion certainly point to time being an important factor. I wrote it during lockdown, from May to October 2020, when I couldn’t have gotten distracted if I tried (and I did try, to be honest). I don’t have children or any other dependents, so with nothing but Zoom calls and home baking in my calendar, I was basically free to fill all my empty hours with writing. 

Indeed, I find it a bit hard to imagine finishing a novel under any other circumstances. The only exception would be if I ever decided to pursue an MFA, as mentioned above, or take a similarly structured writing course with dedicated time for each stage of writing a novel.

For those interested in something like this — who, like me, would require some built-in structure in order to “make the time” to write — I’d highly recommend checking out this three-month novel writing bootcamp run by my friend and colleague, Tom Bromley.

As Tom can attest, it took him years to draft his first novel… but now, two dozen books later, he can knock out a new one in mere months. Your own novel might not come that quickly, but with Tom’s help, you can avoid time-consuming mistakes and establish the necessary routine to get it done.

In any case: time is of the essence here. However you’re able to access that time — whether it’s at a writing retreat, as part of a course, or typing frantically in your notes app while commuting — you need to rack up a lot of hours to get a novel done.

If you can confidently answer “yes” to these first two questions about passion and time, let’s now move on to process-based expectations.

Would I be okay with my story changing along the way?

However you think your novel’s going to turn out, the final product will inevitably look different. And that’s not a bad thing!

One aspect of this is just the creative evolution that takes place when writing any story. No matter how rigorously you outline, things are going to change as you actually dive into writing. You might find that some aspect of your setting is unnecessarily complicated; you might decide to cut a subplot to save space; you might even decide to change the ending entirely. Whenever I start writing anything, even a short story, I almost never know how it’s going to end — which means I’m always primed for things to change.

But the other key thing to remember is that, if this is your first novel, it’s also probably not going to be as good as you’d imagine. I often think of this quote from Ira Glass, of This American Life:

All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. [And] for the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good … But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you.

Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have…

 

If you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know it’s normal, and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work… You’ve just gotta fight your way through.

Some people get very lucky and manage to nail their intended “vibe” immediately, but the vast majority of people need to practice like crazy. Of course, that doesn’t mean you should give up when your work doesn’t meet expectations — as Glass notes, the opposite is true! The only way you’ll ever write the novel you envision is by continuing to chip away at it.

And by the way, if the first draft of your novel isn’t as good as you’d imagined, that doesn’t mean you have to write a whole new novel. On the contrary, you can revisit and redraft down the line, or even work with a professional editor to bring it up to snuff.

All this is to say: no, your first novel is not going to be perfect. But if you can adjust your mindset to accommodate this new reality — as I eventually had to while writing Signal Fires — then you’ll still be able to power through to the end.

What are my publishing expectations?

Speaking of adjusting expectations, let’s talk quickly about the world of publishing.

For many people, simply writing a novel is the bucket-list item, and publishing it is somewhat tangential. I happen to be one of these people; since writing Signal Fires back in 2020, I’ve returned to the manuscript a few times for edits, but haven’t thought seriously about publishing.

This is partly for legal reasons, as I feel I’ve borrowed so heavily from other series that I would need to rework the story substantially to make it original. (Then again, plenty of authors these days are turning their fanfiction into books!) But mainly, it’s for personal reasons; my whole life, I always wanted to write a novel, not necessarily publish one.

Those of you reading this now might feel differently. And not to sound cynical, but if your primary goal is to get published, you may want to do some market research and potentially shape your novel around it.

Of course, you don’t want to change your premise so much that you’re no longer passionate about the idea, as this would negate prerequisite #1! But if your dreams have always revolved around signing with a major publisher, there’s no harm in trying to tailor your book to that outcome.

That said — there are many different versions of the “publishing dream.” If you’re interested in publishing a novel but don’t feel the need to go with a Big 5 publisher, I would definitely recommend looking into small press publishing or, indeed, self-publishing.

If I do decide to publish Signal Fires someday, I’d most likely go the latter route. Self-pub means the least hassle and delay (whereas a publisher might defer your release for years!), while still giving you an Amazon page you can show people and say, “Check this out, I wrote a book.”

You can even print your novel using print-on-demand services if you want a physical copy. For those who’ve always wanted to hold their own novel in their hands, but aren’t picky about how it gets there, this independent path could be the way to go.

Is this a one-off, or do I want to be a career novelist?

This final question is more of a long-term consideration, and to be fair, either answer is valid. It’s just another factor that may affect how you approach the novel writing process.

For example, in my own case, I’m pretty sure Signal Fires was just a one-off. I’m endlessly grateful I ever had the time and energy to do it, but it was a unique situation; again, I don’t think I would have finished this novel if I hadn’t written it during the pandemic.

And I’m not alone, at least not in the “one-off” sense of things — plenty of authors write and publish just one novel and, for whatever reason, decide not to take things further.

But if you do want a career as a novelist, you should approach writing your first novel with the same fervor and preparedness you’d bring to any important new job. You’ll want to establish strong habits, patterns, and processes around plotting and writing, so you don’t have to struggle through it every time. While every author will end up with their own preferences, it’s ideal to research common practices around brainstorming, outlining, etc. before you really get into it, so you’re starting off on the right foot.

I’m going to plug Tom’s course one last time here, just because I think it’s especially helpful for first-time novelists who are building out these processes. There’s nothing like direct guidance and feedback from someone who’s already done what you want to do — and since I haven’t written nearly as many books as Tom has, I’ll leave you in his capable hands.

That said, I do feel confident that these five questions will lead you to a firm answer on the ultimate question of “should I write a novel?” If you have the passion and time to make something work — and if you can be fairly flexible with your expectations — you can accomplish anything. All that’s left to say is: best of luck!