Let’s face it; the daily commute is a grind. You can use it to read, listen to music, watch a film or simply zone out and stare into space. You can, if you are so inclined, use it to do all that work you can’t get done in the office. All are very valid things to do and I do not denigrate any who choose these or any other option. But you can, if you wanted, use it to do something amazing. You can use this dead, unloved time, to write a novel.
You may think that would be impossible. After all, isn’t novel writing done by scholarly men and women in beautifully appointed offices decorated to inspire a finely tuned mind? How can a commuter hope to do the same whilst incarcerated in a tiny space on a commuter train? Well, it can be done. I have now written eight novels and three short stories whilst enduring my own daily commute into London.
So how can it be done? Well, here is my handy guide to writing on a commute.
Let’s start with the numbers. An average novel is 100,000. Sounds a lot? Well, let’s break it down. Let’s say you write a very manageable 500 words in a day, 250 on the way to work and the same again on the way home. That means in the span of just one year, you can have a full length novel under your belt and still have 12 weeks free. Boost that 500 words a day to 1,000 and you can get a novel written in 20 short weeks. Now, to be fair, that is simplifying things a little. No writer (at least no writer that I have ever met) writes a novel in one single, glorious draft. But the numbers stack up. Write something every day and in a relatively short space of time you will have a finished draft. Most writers only produce one novel a year and that is perfectly possible for us to achieve on our commute.
The mechanics of writing are also quite simple. Lightweight laptops, tablets with keyboard and e-readers means there is a bewildering choice of tech for a wannabe writer. It may not be a leather-topped oak desk with a far-reaching view over a beautiful landscape, but it does mean that the handful of inches you can stake a claim to on a busy commuter train is sufficient for you to be able to write. Research books can be kept on a tablet and for some things there will be a suitable app to put whatever resource you need onto your phone. It may not be glamorous or even comfortable, but the well-prepared commute writer should be able to find enough space to be able to write. Most days anyway.
Writing that novel is less simple and can require a change of mindset. I imagine full-time writers may sometimes allow their attention to wander. For us commuter writers, speed is the key. Ruminating has to be left to other times. Try to know what you want to write before you sit down (or perch in a luggage rack). Plan ahead then use the commute as the time to throw the words down. Forgotten something or not sure of a fact? Well, don’t stop but leave a mark so you can go back to it. Once that precious first draft is done you can polish the hell out of it. If you have done it in 20 weeks then you have plenty of time to spread the magic and to work in those lovely nuggets of fascinating research you didn’t use first time around.
Write often. Write fast. Then edit, change and add.
So now you know how many words to write on your daily commute, what to write it on and how to write it. But what to actually write? Well, you know, that’s the best bit. You can write what the hell you like!
Write something that you would love to read. Sure, you need to pour every part of your soul into creating characters that leap off the page and into weaving a plot that sears along at such a pace that it leaves your readers breathless. But there really are no rules as to who those characters should be and what that plot must contain. If you don’t believe me then just spend five minutes in a bookshop and look at the sheer scope of all those novels lined up in the fiction section. There are really are a million possibilities.
So there you have it. Use your commute for whatever you like. If, like me, you choose to use it to write novels then perhaps you will create something in that unloved bit of your day that sets your world, and the world of an army of readers, alight.