Starting a book is the easy part. Everyone’s got a chapter one. Two thousand words of a prologue where a hooded figure walks through a forest. A hard drive full of half-scenes and character names you wrote down at 2am.
The hard part is chapter twelve. Chapter twelve is where most books die.
I’m writing one right now. A fantasy novel pulled straight from the D&D campaign I’ve been running for three years, rebuilt as actual prose. The process has taught me more about writing than any craft book I’ve bought, and I’ve bought most of them. So here’s what nobody tells you when you’re figuring out how to start writing a book and actually finish it.
Pick the genre you actually read
Writers love pretending they’re above trends. “I don’t really read much fantasy, I’m more of a literary guy.” Great. Your manuscript will read like someone doing a cover of a genre they’ve never heard.
Read the thing you want to write. A lot of it. Not two books, twenty. Your brain absorbs pacing, dialogue rhythm, and reader expectations by reading, not by scrolling “how to write a fantasy novel” listicles. (Though fine, read a few of those too.)
Which brings me to romantasy, because the single biggest shift in commercial fiction over the last five years is the rise of this genre. Every new writer should understand it whether they want to write it or not.
What romantasy actually is
Romantasy is fantasy with a romance arc at the center. Not a subplot. The arc. If you pulled the love story out, the book would collapse. Sarah J. Maas built the modern version of it with A Court of Thorns and Roses. Rebecca Yarros blew it wide open with Fourth Wing. The result is a huge slice of publishing that TikTok basically hand-delivered to Big Five editors.
If you’re wondering what is romantasy beyond the marketing label, it’s the fantasy genre that took emotional stakes seriously. For decades, fantasy treated love as flavoring. Romantasy flipped it. The quest and the relationship weigh the same on the scale, and the reader is there for both.
And yes, there’s heat.
A quick word on spice rating
If you’ve been on BookTok or Bookstagram lately, you’ve probably seen books tagged with chili pepper emojis. That’s the spice rating. It tells readers how explicit the sex scenes are. One chili is a kiss and a fade to black. Five chilis is detailed, frequent, and unapologetic. Three is the sweet spot for most mainstream romantasy.
Readers take this seriously. A mismatch between cover promises and interior spice level is one of the most common one-star review complaints you’ll see. If you’re writing in the genre, you need to know your own rating and signal it clearly. Readers want to know before they buy, not after.
For anyone curious about how the system actually works in practice, The Fae Shelf has a solid breakdown with examples across the scale.
Now write the thing
The practical part. Four rules I’d tell anyone starting their first book:
Write every day, even badly. Two hundred ugly words beat zero perfect ones. The muse is a myth pushed by people who already finished their books.
Outline just enough. Full architectural outlines can kill momentum. A loose plan (chapter targets, character arcs, the ending) is usually enough. Discovery in the middle is where the good stuff lives.
Stop editing chapter one. Every unfinished novelist has a chapter one that’s been rewritten forty times. Finish the draft first. You’ll cut half of it anyway.
Find your hours. Not everyone is a 5am writer. I work best from 10pm to midnight when the house is quiet. Figure out when your brain actually cooperates and defend that window with your life.
Build your platform while you write
Here’s the part most writing advice skips. Your book launch will go better if people already know you exist. Start a blog. A newsletter. A TikTok. Not to “build your brand”, because it’s genuinely useful to have a place that’s yours when the book is ready.
A Ghost or WordPress blog built around the genre you’re writing in does double duty. You sharpen your craft by writing about books you love. You build an audience that cares about your taste. You end up with a domain Google actually trusts by the time you need it. I’ve watched authors with zero platform lose six months of their launch window to platform-building they could’ve done in the background while drafting.
Pick a niche inside your genre and own it. “Romantasy reviews” is too broad. “Enemies-to-lovers romantasy with morally grey male leads” is a whole audience waiting to find you. Search intent is real. Serve a specific reader and the algorithm does the rest.
Write the book. Build the site. Don’t wait for permission.