Some time ago (waaaaaaay back in the land of August 2007), I blogged about how to get an agent. Since then, I have been asked the same question approximately 989,956,453,675,453.2 times: “How do you write a book?”

The answer, I’m afraid, is so unbelievably complex that when I give it, I am usually met with disbelieving, blinking eyes that often slant in a moment of distrust, as if I am keeping my secrets and unwilling to share with the masses. The answer, dear Minions, is: “You write one.”

“Yes,” I can hear you all saying, “But hoooooooooooww???”

So I decided to blog this morning (instead of diving straight into the second round of edits on THE SLAYER CHRONICLES’ first book–which has a new title and NO, I WILL NOT TELL YOU WHAT IT IS BECAUSE I AM MEAN LIKE THAT) and tell you how to write a book. Or rather, how I write a book. But before we begin, I must bestow upon you the all-important formula to writing a book. Every writer knows this, from your great grandma Sue to Stephen King himself, even if they don’t know they know it. The formula is this: Butt + Chair = Writing.

If you keep your butt in a chair long enough, you can write a book. And here’s how I do it.

First, I put my butt in a chair (thus utilizing the formula). Then I get an idea (often, though, this idea will come before my butt is anywhere near a chair). Usually my ideas come from asking myself questions. Questions like (in CoVT’s case) “Why doesn’t anybody ever write about the vampire anymore? They always write about the girl who falls in love with the vampire. Why?” or “I wonder what would happen if [HORRIBLE THING] encountered [OTHER HORRIBLE THING]?” or “What if tacos were really ALIVE and their crunchiness were actually tiny SCREAMS???”

Sometimes (such as with CoVT) the questions are valid, thought provoking, and lead to interesting ideas. Sometimes (I’m looking at you, living tacos), they’re crap. Pure crap. And should be set aflame and forgotten forever.

But when they’re good (or seem good at the moment), I sit down and start making notes, answering the basic questions. Questions like: “Who is my protagonist (main character)?” “What is his/her/its major problem?” and most importantly “What makes this story different than the other stories out there?” That last one is critical, because there are a bajillion books out there, and if I want to write a story in the same genre as a portion of that bajillion, I had better find a way to stand out in the crowd. In CoVT’s case, I wrote a series that dealt with being bullied, from a vampire’s (well, half vampire’s) point of view. The books are kinda funny, and not very romance-focused. They’re also relatively short, in opposition to many vampire books today.

Once I have the answers to the basic questions written down, I let my imagination fly. I start writing the story, and usually, in the beginning, my fingers fly and my keyboard catches on fire. HOWEVER…after some time, my mind begins to wander…often to SHINY NEW IDEAS. This is a dangerous time for a writer. Because if you really want to write a book, you’ve got to hit The End. So SHINY NEW IDEAS must be ignored, no matter how SHINY or NEW they are. I’ve taken to scribbling down just a few basic notes in a notebook and then getting back to work on the book I’m writing. Otherwise, I will have a bajillion partially-written books, and I will NEVER reach The End. And, c’mon, be honest…how many partially-written books have you ever seen at the bookstore? The answer is NONE. So…shaking off the urge to frolic around my office with the SHINY NEW IDEAS, I apply the formula and get my butt back in that chair.

And that’s when the real work begins.

Writers have two different kinds of days. Only two. The “I am GOD” days and “I SUCK” days. The former is amazing. The latter is the worst feeling in the world. But I’m slowly learning to cling to the hope that every day won’t be an “I SUCK” day.

I write. Even if it’s awful. I keep putting words on that page. I trudge forward, through plot holes, through poor grammar, through typos galore, through weak characters, through run-on sentences, and eventually, I hit The End. But to do so, I have to be something that I am not. I have to be selfish. I have to ignore my family, friends, housekeeping, showers (okay, only sometimes), and adorable, fluffy kitties, just so I can use the formula and reach The End. It’s difficult, especially if family, friends, and kitties want attention, but I have to say no at some point, and make time for the writing. Because no one is going to write it for me while I’m off socializing. Because I am the only person who can tell my story. And writing is hard, lonely work. So…I write. And eventually, I hit The End.

Then I celebrate. Even if the manuscript is awful. Because dude…I wrote a BOOK! That’s a huge accomplishment. Even if it never sees a bookstore shelf.

But I never celebrate for long (no more than 24 hours), because that’s when the real work begins. Now that I have the basis of a book, I have to fix it, so it’s not ugly. (And ohhhhhhh, are my first drafts UGLY) First thing’s first: I print that sucker out, grab a red pen, and start reading. I mark up everything, making corrections on the page, sometimes scribbling “insert cool fight scene here” in the margins with a big arrow pointing to a spot on the page that’s crying out for blood. I do what I like to call “bleeding all over the page”. Then I go into my Word file, make those corrections, print it out again, and do it all over again. Wash, rinse, repeat.

When I get to a point that I’m feeling pretty good about it, I’ll read the story aloud. And (you got it) grab that red pen again. Things sound different when they’re read aloud. Errors, weaknesses, they all stand out a bit better somehow.

Once I HATE my story, and am SICK OF READING THE STUPID THING, I send it to a trusted friend or two, to get their opinions. Luckily, I have brilliant friends. But even so, I don’t take all of their advice on what to change. I only take what feels right. I edit it again, incorporating the advice that I agree with, and then I try to let it sit for a while before I read it again (I call this getting “fresh eyes”) It’s amazing the things that you don’t see no matter how often you read something. Fresh eyes help immensely. Editors also help immensely.

I wish my process were more glamorous than this. I wish I could tell you stories about my muse and harps playing and dancing at fancy parties with JK Rowling, but the truth is…I sit at home and write. And avoid SHINY NEW IDEAS until I’ve reached The End.