It is easier to find an excuse than to find a way. Doubts and fears are often disguised in the form of alibis and it can gnaw on any artists, and writers are no exception. There is the fear of not being good enough, having nothing to say, not knowing how or where to begin, and getting rejected. Your pick. Then the budding writer looks around and finds other writers who are doing better, and it crushes his ego. He is paralyzed and intimidated.

All these doubts and fears are unfounded. They are the by-product of the writer’s excessive self-criticism that stops them from pursuing writing, especially the novel. They run for inspiration and self-help books and even words of wisdom from the more experienced writers. Do they help? Maybe yes, maybe no. In the long run, it still the writer who will sit and start putting words into paper. 

Having said that, the lack of talent or skill is not what stops the writer from tackling a lengthy work like the novel. It is the overwhelming task of writing something on a grand scale like a full-length novel. The writer thinks of a plot, creates three-dimensional characters, background, and conflicts. Then it hits him--how is he going to put them all together to create one huge, cohesive work? So much for that old advice that writing is easy.

Consider the work of a sculptor: He has the skill, imagination, and tools necessary to carve a piece of rock into a piece of art. The sculptor does not attack the rock without planning what he wants to make out of it. In his head, a blueprint of the image registers. Say that he wants to carve the image of a Greek goddess from the slab. He starts by outlining the rock with a pencil to see how the figure would emerge. He decides whether to create a relief sculpture or a three-dimensional image that can be viewed from all sides. He determines the direction of the rock’s grain and bed lines. He is fully aware that any small detail that he carelessly carves may break off if the grain runs crosswise. He can cut lines with his chisels, crosshatch the ridges, and create a rough form. 

Novels, like sculptures, are solid creations. They only remain abstract if they are confined inside the writer’s head and are not translated into a readable form. The sculptor knows that even a tiny etch he makes contributes to the details of the art he makes. In the same manner, a writer knows that every element he puts into his novel--plot, conflict, characters, etc.--have a relationship to the formation of the story. The writer must not attack these elements in one go. By building one portion at a time, the writer will find it easier to see what works and what does not. 

Thick novels such as War and Peace and the voluminous Remembrance of Things Past were written successfully at a time when word processors were not yet in vogue and the writing act proved laborious. But these works came into fruition not because their authors were great, but because their authors were determined to bring out the stories from their heads. They did not even think that their work would go down in the literary canon as classics. Start working on your novel. It is going to be a marathon, but you will learn something along the way.