How I write a book is not how Nicole Kidman writes a book

... and not least because Nicole Kidman doesn't even WRITE books...

First up: I still don’t have a title for the new book. I’m fighting hard for The Ghostwriter of Christmas Past, because I think pretty much everyone on my last post agreed that it is THE title. The one title to rule them all, as it were. (You guys mostly voted for Rewriting Christmas as the runner-up, by the way, but then you also all commented saying you only voted for that because Ghostwriter wasn’t an option, and I have to thank you for that, because it allowed me to spend the entire week saying, “Look! Here’s another person who agrees with me!” and I enjoyed that. I like being right.) I think I’m slowly starting to make some headway. But Terry (husband/business partner, for those of you just joining us…) is still trying to insist there’s another, much better title out there, and until we know what that Much Better Title is, we remain stuck in this holding pattern of Not Having a Title, which… it’s kind of ruining everything, you know? Like, this is not how I write a book.

This is how I write a book:

1. Vague hint of an idea for book.

2. Immediately start thinking of a title for it, even though idea is still stuck on ‘extremely vague’ status.

3. Feel smug about how great my title is. Not so much about the vague idea, but still! Title! Is great!

4. Argue with Terry about title.

5. Start making book covers in Canva.

6. Hate them all.

7. Start thinking that maybe I should come up with a slightly less vague plot to go with this great title and mediocre cover?

8. I hate this.

9. ‘Brainstorm’ plot ideas; normally while on long walks with Terry, which frequently end in an argument.

10. Hate all of the plot ideas.

11. Finally come up with an idea I like, normally while in the shower, or somewhere else I can’t immediately write it down.

12. Order new custom notebook with title of book on the cover.

13. Set up a pre-order for the as-yet un-started book, because, LOL, why not?

14. Panic.

15. Plot.

16. Take photos of new notebook to post on Instagram.

17. Panic some more.

18. Should I buy a pair of Ugg slippers?¹

19. More plotting.

20. I can’t afford them, though? But I want them?

21. Finally start writing the book, while still remaining mostly focused on what the cover will look like.

I suspect this probably isn’t how other, Proper Authors write books, but, look, I’ve tried, and I can’t do it any other way. I can’t start writing until I have a title and, ideally, a cover. Or at least a concept for a cover. And, right now, I have neither, because my chosen title is going to have to change, and so is the cover (which was always just a temporary ‘holding cover’ anyway, so I’m not too bothered about that…), which… hold me, someone. Please.

Anyway. As well as working on The Novel With No Name (Which, now I think of it, is quite a good title, no?), my week has mostly been spent dreaming up titles, searching for a new pair of slippers online, because wow, it’s cold now, and wondering why Nicole Kidman always wears such bad wigs in her acting roles. Seriously, though, why? Surely she could afford good wigs, if she must wear wigs (and no judgement if she must)? Why does she always seem to choose ones that make her look like she’s balancing some strange kind of hair helmet on top of her head? Why, though?

I am, of course, referring to Netflix’s The Perfect Couple, which we watched this week, Terry speculating the entire time that there was surely going to be some kind of pivotal scene in which Nicole’s wig dramatically left her head, and it was some kind of metaphor for… something that would explain her character being a multi-millionaire, but apparently having to buy her wigs from Temu.

“The wig is there for a reason,” he argued. “It’s a plot device. Just wait and see.”

“It’s not, trust me,” I replied. “It’s just what she always does.”

And that was the second thing I got to be right about this week. Go, me!

Not me writing my book

Anyway, the main reason I wanted to mention this show wasn’t because of Nicole’s hair (And, look, she does HAVE hair. I know, because I’ve seen some of the interviews she’s done for the show, and she has real, normal hair in them. And even if she didn’t, my point remains: there are GOOD wigs she could use, surely?), but because her character in it is an author; and not just ANY old author, either, but the kind of super-successful author who can afford a house in Nantucket with its own private beach, purely by writing a book every few years. And the books are so successful that each launch is accompanied by a frenzy of publicity, and an expensive party where everyone wears Chanel and is secretly sleeping with someone they shouldn’t be. And she writes these books while sitting, perfectly framed, in the window of her seafront mansion, flawlessly made-up, immaculately dressed, and with Liev Schreiber attached to her neck.

Also not me.

And meanwhile, here am I, wearing a pair of joggers from the H&M kids department, and writing this newsletter at a window looking out onto my neighbours’ wheelie bins. My hair is unwashed.² There’s a pimple on my chin. I wrote 1,336 words of The Novel Without a Name today, but that includes all the bits in square brackets that say things like [insert description of him here. Try not to mention furrowed brows or use the word ‘brooding’] and [something about feelings here, idk].

We are not the same, Greer Winbury and I.

On the plus side, though, no one has been murdered while staying at my house, so I guess that’s something?

(Also, I’d secretly hate having to have launch parties for my books, so that’s something else.)

Should I buy a wig, though?

Until next week,

1. This has nothing to do with the book writing, btw, I’m just wondering. Look, my feet get cold, OK?

2. Wait. Maybe this is the reason for the wigs?