Man on Wire
There are many popular writers out there, John Irving among them, who never begin a project without knowing exactly where they’re going. I remember an interview with Irving where he said he starts a book by figuring out what its last sentence will be. There is something to be said for having a map, a guide book of sorts to keep you on track, to allow you to chart your progress.
Conversely, there are just as many well-known writers, Stephen King among them, who start with just a germ of an idea, a character or two, and then delight in discovering their story in the moment as they’re actually writing it. They feel that an outline only serves to stifle the creative process; in their view, to plot a story is to suffocate it.
Here’s where I stand on the issue: I spent many years authoring screenplays which began life as structured, organized outlines, and so when it came to writing my first novel I was determined to work without a net. I knew only the bare essentials before plunging in: the story would involve repressed memories, and my teenage main character would somehow become his parents’ therapist. The process was extremely liberating; in fact, maybe too liberating, in that it resulted in a huge first draft. But I don’t regret my choice and believe the story would not have as much of the energy and surprise that it does if I had plotted it out beforehand.
Things are a bit different with my new project, a YA horror novel. I’ve decided to go a bit further with plotting, to know more about the story and characters before I set off to write. I’m not sure if it’s because this is a “genre” project and I’m concerned about hitting on certain “genre” beats or expectations, but it just feels like the right move for this story. However, I haven’t completely abandoned my intrepid spirit, as my plot structure is pretty loose and I’ve purposely left open the answers to several questions that I’ll dig up when I start writing. There needs to be an element of mystery, a willingness to embrace the unexpected, or the writing will go stale. I can only write about my characters and the story for so long before I get the itch to finally bring them both to life.
So how about you? If you’re a writer reading this, where do you fall on the issue of story preparation? Outline or no outline? Net, or nothing but the unforgiving ground to catch you if you fall?
Ahhh, good man, I wrote my first screenplay in 1989 and at that time I had the aide of a few lined yellow tablets on which I scrawled notes, plot points, snatches of dialogue, etc. I found certain concepts and set pieces that had sprung organically into the mix served as placeholders, beacons in the darkness of creation. In the years that have passed, I have attempted several screenplays without any deliberate direction and they have always gone astray. Always. Now, I plot more than ever before, from character bios to constantly evolving beat outlines. I usually have seven or more separate word docs open devoted to themes, fantasy scenes, fantasy dialogue, location facts, genre conventions, transitions, emotional arcs and suspense/action sequences. Each of these evolves and is revised continually throughout the process. I also work with folders that hold images culled from net searches. The images capture feelings and evocations that I’m trying to put into words or are locations or lighting schemes I think apply to the piece I’m writing. Now, whether through practice or this evolution of exploration, my writing is more focused and more muscular. But I am also very strict in the construction of the narrative, in that I will purposely stop myself from imagining the closure of every scene or arc. This way there remain surprises and even some emotions that I discover in the final execution of the scene. Speaking of which, I’ve tarried here long enough. Happy hunting!
Thanks, Scott, I don’t think I ever knew just how expansive your process is. Thanks for sharing this. You’ve told me recently that you’ve achieved new heights in your own writing and that’s obviously a testament to your willingness to try new things enroute to finding a story-building technique that really works for you.
Yessir. Also, I must add that I now often open new documents to serve as a “branching” of the beat outline so that I can extrapolate the ramifications of differing narrative choices. What if my hero accidentally kills someone here? What would it mean down the line if the setting for this scene was a firing range instead of a parcheesi tournament? What if the thing they’re after here is not a medallion, but the brand on the hide of a living rhinoceros? This way I can follow the possibilities until they no longer inspire me or they are incorporated into the final story. I find the more malleable I consider the form, the more malleable it becomes and somehow more cohesive. I think I’ve long said to you that truly successful stories seem to be just as aware of what they are not, as what they are. That’s why there isn’t a dance number on the Death Star. 🙂