novel Archives - Lisa Manterfield

November 19, 2019 - Lisa Manterfield Leave a Comment

Home Again: A Messy First Draft

Inspired by a student who posts his sci-fi stories online, I decided to post the messy first draft of a story I started while visiting my mum in the U.K.. I’ve been thinking about the topic of “can you ever really go home again?” for some time, and finally decided to get a story down on paper.

This opening scene still needs a lot of work. You’ll see several uses of “TK”, which is a placeholder I use for missing information, so I can keep writing and not get bogged down in details and research. This draft is messy and spotty, but I’d love to know what think. Do you want to know more about Harry? What kind of story do you think this might turn out to be? Does it feel like my other stories or does it feel different?

Opening Scene:

Harriet “Harry” Belmont was half way across the Atlantic when she realized her remarkable life was, in fact, one great big giant cock-up. As the flight attendant handed her a third glass of champagne (or was it the fourth?) and she replayed her “Deep Sleep in 20 Minutes” meditation app, also for the third time (or was it the fourth?), an image flashed in her mind. A deck of playing cards built into an elaborate pyramid, the queen of hearts pulled out and the whole thing tumbling down.

Oh stop being so dramatic, Harry, she told herself. But actually, it was true.

It had started with the job, the 3 p.m. summons to Human Resources. Harry had seen enough people shuffling through the glass lobby of TK on a Friday afternoon, their careers packed into one single cardboard box, to know what this meant. She eyed her rubber plant, the photo of TK, her cat, and the mug she’d bought from her last weekend at the coast, and knew they’d be boxed up within the hour.

“Reorg,” is what she’d expected Marianna, the HR Director to say. Or “contract renegotiations”, something buzzy and non-specific. But that’s not what she said.

“Unfortunately,” said Marianna, doing everything in her power to keep her eyes locked on Harry’s file, “we’ve had a complaint.”

“About me?”

“Yes. It was brought to us by another employ-ee.”

Harry hated the way Marianna pronounced employee, dragging out the last syllable as if she were deflating at the addition of persons in employment.

Harry ran through the details of her current project. Deliverables had been delivered, problems solved. TKs TK’d. All on schedule and under budget. She’d delivered every project she’d been contracted to do for the past five years the same way, which is why her contracts were always renewed.

“May I ask the nature of the complaint?” Harry asked, fighting to maintain control of her voice.

“The employ-ee in question reported an inter-employ-ee relationship that this person felt was inappropriate.”

Harry flinched. Tom. They’d both known their relationship would be frowned upon if they were ever found out, so they’d been careful to be discrete. They were never more than civil to one another at work, never went for drinks alone and never sat together if they went as a group. Most of their relationship had been conducted behind closed doors, at Harry’s apartment in the Marina, or at small, romantic B&Bs along the California coast. Harry allowed herself a smile at the memory of their latest escape, two nights in a cottage overlooking the rugged Mendocino coastline, a breakfast of homemade coffee cakes and savories delivered to their door each morning. And the long languid mornings making love in the high four-poster bed, Harry gripping the bed posts, her skin pressed into crisp white sheets, and Tom transporting her from a fluffy cloud of bedding to a fluffy cloud of nirvana.

But they’d been discrete, hadn’t they? They’d gone for walks in remote spots, kept their jaunts around town to a minimum, and always entered restaurants separately, scoping the tables for familiar faces. They knew the consequences of being seen together, and she was absolutely certain they hadn’t been.

Harry pursed her lips, the vision of Tom’s naked body vanishing in a puff. “This employ-ee, does he—or she (Harry was certain the tattletale was a she)—have evidence of said alleged relationship?”

Marianna straightened. “She, or he, felt strongly that such a relationship was taking place and that, if such a relationship were to happen, it might jeopardize the team and the project. You understand of course that we must take this kind of issue very seriously.”

Harry understood perfectly well. Someone had gotten wind of her relationship with Tom, someone was jealous, and had reported her to HR. It wouldn’t do to allow a relationship between a senior executive and an underling, so one of them had to go. And of course, that someone had was Harry.

“Good morning from the flight deck.” The captain’s voice came over the PA system. “We hope you had a pleasant night’s sleep.”

Harry stretched her neck, feeling a knot at her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if it was a flight-related crick or stress.

“We’ll be starting our decent into Manchester shortly. The weather on the ground is partly cloudy with a slight chance of afternoon drizzle.”

Harry peered through the tiny square of window at the landscape below. The vast ocean butted up against the crenelated coastline of the British Isles and gave way to a swath of green—rolling hills and patchwork fields, dotted with tiny villages.

Beside her, her seat mate yawned and peeled back a black sleep mask, rubbing under his eyes as if he’d just woken from the deepest sleep. “Good to be home,” he said.

“Mm,” said Harry.

“Is this home for you?”

“Sort of,” Harry said. “I’m from here originally, but I live in San Francisco now.”

“Lucky you,” he said. “Still, there’s no place like home, is there?”

Harry smiled, but she wasn’t entirely sure she agreed. “Home” was complicated these days. She lived in the city and that had been home for over a decade now. And yet, whenever she took a trip to visit her mother in Hope, the village where she’d grown up, she always told people she was going home. But Hope had not been home to Harry for a long time. She’d left at eighteen to go away to university and she hadn’t been back for more than a visit since. Nor did she ever plan to. Some people say you can’t go home again, and Harry firmly believed that was true. As soon as this trip was over, Harry would go home, to her real home, back to San Francisco, where she belonged.

“No,” Harry said. “There’s no place like home.”

June 12, 2019 - Lisa Manterfield Leave a Comment

7 Ways to Get A Novel Started

I’m just diving into the serious rubber-meets-the road work of my new novel. I don’t have a title yet, just a cast of characters, an idea I want to explore, and a vague shape of the story I want to tell. I’ve spent the past few weeks noodling ideas, jotting in notebooks, and reading research materials; now it’s time to write.

Here are some of the tools I use to get my novel from idea to words on a page.

1. Basic Research

Research is important to a novel, but it can be a deep, dark rabbit hole that gets in the way of the actual writing. As I’m assembling a novel in my mind, I try to do the bare minimum research I need to get the story moving. I don’t yet need to know what kind of shoes my character wears, but I do need to know what is happening in the world around her (in the case of my new book, a war) and some details about her life at that time. I need a basic timeline of the real world and enough facts about events that I can make sure I’m writing a story that could actually happen in that time and place.

For Dora’s story, I’ve read a few works of fiction, including some children’s books (thanks to author Pamela Toler for that tip.) I’ve read a couple for memoirs and some historical non-fiction. Supplemented by internet research and a browse through some news, film, and radio archives, I have enough to know that the story in my head will fit the real-world events of that time and place. Later, once I have a first draft done, I’ll do more detailed research to make sure I get everything right.

2. Find the Emotional Core

YA author, Nina LaCour shares her methods for getting to the emotional core of a story in her Slow Novel Lab course. When I write, I usually start with a character and build a plot around her. For this new book, I’m interested in where Dora is emotionally at the beginning of the book, and what she needs to discover about herself as she goes through this story. I don’t yet know exactly what happens in the second half of the book, or how it ends (although this is slowly starting to take shape.) I doknow what Dora (and the reader) need to understand about the world when the book is over.

That said, I’ll be writing with my fingers crossed that the rest of the story reveals itself as I move forward.

3. Uncover the Story

Lisa Cron’s Story Genius is a great tool for getting to the real meat of the story. Her exercises help me dig into my characters to really understand them and their stories. I use Lisa’s methods to get to the heart of the story, to understand why what happens in the plot will matter to my character, and why readers will care about any of it.

4. Get into the Character’s Skin

A few years ago I took a brilliant workshop at UCLA with actor/writer Leon Martell. Leon taught us how to use acting techniques to get into the heads of our characters. Dora came out of a series of exercises in that workshop. She was originally a supporting character, but she came to life for me in that class. When other class members began asking questions about her, I realized that it was her story I needed to tell. As I start to get Dora onto the page, I’ll go back to the exercises from this class to bring Dora to life.

5. Capture the Ideas

Index cards are my BFF. I’ll have hundreds of them by the time this book is done. I use them to capture ideas, to jot down scenes I know need to be in the story, and ultimately to bring a shape to the story I’m telling. I write my early drafts in a program called Scrivener, which has a digital index card system, but I still prefer to handwrite notes. That way I can spread my cards out on the floor, move them around, and get a clear visual image of how the story will hang together.

6. Map out the Plot

When it’s time to commit to an order for my cards, Jessica Brody’s Save the Cat! Writes a Novel is my go-to guide for building a compelling plot. Save the Cat! is a method of plotting out a story and developing key scenes that can be used as milestones in the long writing process. I use it to create a Beat Sheet of scenes I know must be included.

I keep my plot loose for the first draft and give myself permission to circle back and change things as the story unfolds. Save the Cat! gives me a road map while I write.

7. Place Butt in Chair

Finally, we come to the most valuable tool in my arsenal for getting a novel started. No matter what tools I use to get my story going, at some point, I need to deposit my posterior in my chair and get the writing done.

And that’s what I’m doing this week.

If you’re a writer looking for help writing or revising your own novel, please check out my book coaching and editing services on the For Writers page.

May 8, 2019 - Lisa Manterfield Leave a Comment

Listen Up! The Smallest Thing Audiobook is Coming Soon

Now that The Perfect Sister is out of my hands (for now), it’s time dive into something new. I’ve hung blank white boards on my office wall and opened a new pack of index cards to start planning out my World War II novel. I have two strong characters—Dora and Kurt—and the beginnings of a story about what happens when their paths cross in 1940. I’ve planned a trip to England and Central Europe in the fall, so my goal is to have a rough enough first draft to know what additional details I need to research while I’m there.

Something Old

I’m also eyeing an old manuscript that’s been sitting on my shelf for a couple of years. The book never fully gelled but the story keeps calling to me, so I’m thinking it might be time to dust it off and figure out how to make it work. I have a few ideas. I’ll keep you posted.

Something Exciting

My third big project is the production of the audiobook for The Smallest Thing. While I won’t be doing the narration myself (although I considered it for a short while), I’m auditioning voice talent and assembling all the information the actor will need to bring Em and her village to life. I’ve been listening to the actor’s voice samples and I’ve sent them an excerpt of the book to read for the audition. I am a little silly with excitement about hearing Em for the first time. I’m looking forward to sharing it with you.

If you have a second, I’d love to learn more about your audiobook habits with a quick question. Please let me know in the comments where you usually get your audiobooks.

And finally…

I’ve been trying out some new marketing ideas to spread the word about my books. If you want to take advantage of my experimentation, you’ll find The Smallest Thing on sale, on Amazon only, for $2.99 this week.

June 18, 2018 - Lisa Manterfield Leave a Comment

Book Trailer: The Smallest Thing

Here it is, better late than never, the book trailer for The Smallest Thing.

This one was really fun, as I got to include photos of the real village where the story takes place (photography credit: moi!). I think it captures the tone of the story and sets up some of the intrigue of what’s to come.

What do you think?

If you have a thing for book trailers, check out the trailer for A Strange Companion. The cemetery shot is one of mine, too!

And if you want to be the first to hear about my upcoming book, don’t forget to sign up for my mailing list.

The Smallest Thing is available on:

March 26, 2018 - Lisa Manterfield Leave a Comment

Eyam: The Plague Village That Inspired THE SMALLEST THING

Imagine you live in an idyllic English village. Suddenly your friends and neighbors begin falling ill and dying of a deadly infectious disease. In order to stop the spread of this virus to the surrounding villages and beyond, you and your neighbors make a monumental decision. You quarantine your village; no one comes in, no one goes out. For months you isolate yourselves, relying on the kindness of surrounding neighbors to provide food and supplies. You wait and watch, while the disease rips through families, sparing some lives and taking others. When it’s all over, 260 people—more than two thirds of the village—are dead, but the contagion has been stopped, potentially saving the lives of thousands of people—and your village will be remembered for centuries to come for its courage and self-sacrifice.

Sounds like a great premise for a novel, doesn’t it? In fact, it’s a true story. This is the story of the plague village of Eyam, a small village in the north of England, not far from where I grew up.

In the mid-1600s The Great Plague ravaged London, killing more than 100,000 people. Thanks to a stowaway flea in a bolt of cloth, the disease made its way to Eyam, some 150 miles to the north. Lead by the local vicar, Reverend Mompesson, the villagers made the horrific decision to isolate themselves and prevent the plague from spreading further.

I’ve always been fascinated by this part of history and the personal stories that have endured. There’s the story of Emmott Syddall, engaged to a boy in the next village. The two lovers continued their affair across the quarantine boundary from opposing riverbanks. Their story is commemorated in a stained glass window in the church. There’s the story of villagers leaving money in a pot of vinegar (to disinfect it) in exchange for supplies from surrounding villages. And there are the tragic stories, such as Elizabeth Hancock, who buried her husband and six children, and yet never became infected.

I first heard these stories as young girl visiting Eyam and they’ve stuck with me ever since. They’re an important part of my local history and I’ve always wanted to find a way to share them with a wider audience. I didn’t want to write historical fiction (plus Geraldine Brooks already did it, and undoubtedly better than I could have, in her 2002 novel Year of Wonders), and writing a contemporary version of the story was fraught with roadblocks, thanks to the wonders of modern medicine and technology.

But I really wanted to tell this story, so I started writing. I started with the characters of Emmott Syddall and Roland Torre, and wrote some scenes with them. And I kept writing, until a new story started to emerge.

The story evolved, as stories do, in ways I could never have imagined, until it became my novel THE SMALLEST THING.

You’ll have to read the book for a more intimate tour of Em’s village, but for now, I’ll leave you with a few more snaps of Eyam, taken from one of my research trips.

You can still see the Plague Cottages, where George Viccars, the first victim lived. The cottages are still inhabited. You can also see the church and churchyard where some of the victims were buried.

One of my favorite spots is Cucklett Delf, where Emmott and Roland allegedly met, where outdoor services were held during the quarantine, and where a memorial service is held each year to commemorate the incredible sacrifice.

You can learn more about Eyam at their excellent museum.