Lifting the Lid - Part 1

For those of you who are interested in the craft of writing, I've put together a series of articles that lift the lid on my own writing process.

Of course, everyone's writing process is different, and I can only speak for myself. But I hope that these may prove helpful and instructional for readers wanting to get into writing themselves.


For this first installment, I thought it would be interesting to give an example of something that happens more often than you might think: life imitating art (or as we say in the business - 'blind luck').

When I wrote the sixteenth chapter of 'The Endless Circle' I spent some time coming up with the description of Craec Annwn. Here are the resulting drafts (scroll down if these bore you):



1st Draft:

From the moment they had turned the last bend in the road and seen, for the first time, the hill of Craec Annwn thrusting up from the valley before them, glowing in the morning sun, the Baron’s castle crouching upon it like some predatory beast and the town lying in its awesome shadow, Banac had been transfixed. Beyond the town a broad, slow river wound its way southwards, sparkling in the sunlight, and beyond that a line of purple hills rose up and up, frowning austerely over the valley; but it was the town that caught Banac’s eyes and held them.

2nd Draft:

From the moment they had turned the last bend in the road and seen the hill of Craec Annwn thrusting up from the valley before them, with the Baron’s castle crouching upon it like some predatory beast and the town lying in its awesome shadow, Banac had been transfixed. He had never seen anything built in stone before, though he had heard the stories; in the flesh it was more impressive than it ever could have been in his imagination. To his eyes it looked as though the castle grew out of the hilltop, thick walls rising around a cluster of buildings, and a high square tower thrusting up from them all, crowned with battlements.

Beyond the town a broad, slow river wound its way southwards, sparkling in the sunlight, and beyond that a line of purple hills rose up and up, frowning austerely over the valley; but it was the town that caught Banac’s eyes and held them.

3rd Draft:

In the end it was late afternoon by the time they rounded the last bend in the road, and saw the hill of Craec Annwn thrusting up from a deep valley before them; the Baron’s castle crouched upon the hilltop like some predatory beast, and the town cowered in its awesome shadow

The moment they set eyes upon it, Banac and Balor were transfixed. They had heard stories of stone buildings before, but the pictures they had built in their imaginations were nothing compared to the sight that lay before them. To their eyes it seemed as though the castle grew out of the very hilltop, thick walls rising around a cluster of buildings and a high square tower thrusting up from them all, crowned with battlements. Never in all their lives had they thought they would live to see such a thing.

Beyond the town a broad, slow river wound its way southwards, sparkling in the sunlight, and beyond the river a line of purple hills rose up and up, frowning austerely over the valley. But the boys had eyes only for the castle, and they stood drinking in the spectacle for long minutes in silence.

4th Draft:

In the end it was mid-afternoon by the time they reached their destination: they rounded a last bend in the road and another valley opened up before them with the hill of Craec Annwn thrust up like a knuckle of rock in the middle of it, the Baron’s castle crouched upon the hilltop like some predatory beast and the town cowering in its awesome shadow.

Banac and Balor were transfixed, and they stopped in their tracks and stared. Every building they had seen before had been made of wood, and while they had heard stories of stone buildings before, the pictures they had built in their imaginations were nothing compared to the sight that lay before them. To their eyes it seemed as though the castle grew out of the very hilltop, thick walls rising around a cluster of buildings and a high square tower rising over them all, crowned with battlements. Beyond the town a broad, slow river wound its way southwards, sparkling in the sunlight, and beyond the river a line of purple hills rose up and up, frowning austerely over the valley; but the boys had eyes only for the castle, and they stood drinking in the spectacle for long minutes.

5th Draft:

A wide valley lay before them, cut through with a swift-flowing river. Beyond the river a range of purple hills rose up and up, frowning austerely over the valley. From their vantage point they could see tiny figures toiling here and there in the patchwork of fields that extended in both directions along the river’s edge; but it was not the view that took the boys’ breath away. Rising up from the middle of the valley was a dark knuckle of rock, and crouched upon the summit like some predatory beast was the castle of Craec Annwn. It was built entirely of stone, and to the boys’ eyes the castle seemed to grow out of the hilltop, all walls and battlements, and a great square tower rising over them all. They had never seen a stone building before — everything in the village was made of wood — and while they had heard stories of castles and palaces, the pictures in their imaginations were nothing compared to what their eyes saw now.

6th Draft:

It was mid-afternoon when they finally rounded the last bend in the road and caught their first sight of their destination — and at the sight both boys stopped in their tracks and stared, for it was unlike anything they had ever seen.

A wide valley lay before them, running north to south and cut through by a swift-flowing river. Beyond the river a range of purple hills rose up, frowning austerely over the valley. From their vantage point the boys could see tiny figures toiling here and there in the patchwork of fields that extended in both directions along the river’s edge.

But it was not the valley that took the boys’ breath away. It was the dark knuckle of rock that rose up in the middle of it, about which the river was cast in a great loop, and the castle that crouched upon its summit like some predatory beast. To the boys’ eyes the castle seemed to grow out of the very hilltop, all walls and battlements with a great square tower rising over them all. They had never seen a stone building before — everything in the village was made of wood — and while they had heard stories of castles and palaces, the pictures in their imaginations were nothing compared to what their eyes saw now.

7th Draft:

It was mid-afternoon when they finally rounded the last bend in the road and caught their first sight of their destination — and at the sight both boys stopped in their tracks and stared. They had never seen anything like it before in their lives.

A wide valley lay before them, cut through with a swift-flowing river. Beyond the river a range of purple hills rose up and up, frowning austerely over the valley. From their vantage point they could see tiny figures toiling here and there in the patchwork of fields that extended in both directions along the river’s edge; but it was not the view that took the boys’ breath away. Rising up from the middle of the valley was a dark knuckle of rock, and crouched upon the summit like some predatory beast was the castle of Craec Annwn.

To the boys’ eyes the castle seemed to grow out of the hilltop, all walls and battlements with a great square tower rising over them all. They had never seen a stone building before — everything in the village was made of wood — and while they had heard stories of castles and palaces, the pictures in their imaginations were nothing compared to what their eyes saw now.

Final Draft:

It was mid-afternoon when they finally rounded the last bend in the road and caught their first sight of their destination — and at the sight both boys stopped in their tracks and stared. It was unlike anything they had ever seen.

A wide valley lay before them, running north to south and cut through by a swift-flowing river. Beyond the river a range of purple hills rose up, frowning austerely over the valley. From their vantage point the boys could see tiny figures toiling here and there in the patchwork of fields that extended in both directions along the river’s edge.

In the midst of the valley a dark knuckle of rock rose up, the river flowing about it in a great loop. Upon its summit a castle crouched, like some predatory beast, seeming to grow out of the very hilltop, all walls and battlements with a great square tower rising over them all. The boys had never seen a stone building before — everything in the village was made of wood — and while they had heard stories of castles and palaces, the pictures in their imaginations were nothing compared to what their eyes saw now.

For those of you who read through all of those drafts, you will notice how many minor changes, re-changes, erasings, and goings-back can go into the polishing of a single descriptive passage. Sometimes this is for reasons of pace, sometimes for reasons of clarity. The position of a paragraph break can completely change the way a passage reads.

Around the fourth or fifth draft I found this on the internet:

It is actually Craec Annwn: the exact image I had had in my head, the image I was struggling so hard to get down on paper - obviously without the modern high-rise blocks, but otherwise remarkably similar. To my knowledge I had never seen this place before in my life, and I have no idea how it got there.

I think what this goes to show that there is nothing you can write that can't be bettered in real life. This is when I learned that description of place is important, but that lading your reader with minute details is not what is required. Give them the flavour of a place, the character of a setting, and the reader will fill in the details themselves.

Then plonk your characters down and make them run around. Remember: people are much more interesting to other people than any amount of castles or forests.

Hope that sheds a little light. More to come soon.