by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell
[NOTE: I had this post prepped before seeing yesterday’s Words of Wisdom. Consider this an adjunct to that discussion and let’s continue the conversation in the comments.]
Partial of J. K. Rowling’s outline for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
At my first ThrillerFest I went to listen to a panel of writers talking about their working methods. I was a bit late to the packed proceedings, so found myself a place to stand in the back. A minute or so later a writer of some repute came in and took the spot next to me.
At about that time writer Andrew Gross was talking about working with Mr. James Patterson (I think Gross was the first, or at least among the first, of the Patterson co-writers). He went into detail about the single-spaced, eighty-page outlines favored by the world’s bestselling novelist.
At which point the writer next to me issued an anguished sigh. He sounded like Sisyphus looking down the hill after his rock rolled back to the bottom.
After the panel, as we walked out, I said to him, “I take it you don’t favor outlines.”
To which Lee Child said, “I don’t even know what I’m going to write in the next paragraph.”
And there we have the two ends of the spectrum on the perennial question new writers ask: Should I outline my novel before I write it?
We all know there are various opinions on the matter. Generally the issue is robustly discussed, with pros and cons, and usually ends with, “Well, do whatever works for you.”
At the extreme ends, however, you will often be treated to voluble zealotry. I call these camps the NOPs and the COPs—“Never Outline People” and “Copious Outline People.”
Your hard-core NOP will often assert that never, under any circumstances, unless you are a complete and utter doofus, must you ever attempt to outline, in any form or fashion, lest your story become an empty shell or bloodless ruin.
I find such conviction fascinating, for nothing in art, or even life, is a matter of such certainty.
Those pressing for the copious outline can also be a bit too fervid in their advocacy.
There are, of course, some famous “pantsers,” such as Mr. Child and Stephen King. Both extol the value of their approach. But I herein offer a theory: those guys, because of their backgrounds (Child from TV, King from voracious reading as a kid) have story and structure wired into them. The outlines are actually there, unfolding in their heads. They’re not so purely NOP after all.
And there are famous outliners, with J. K. Rowling and James Patterson at the head of that class.
My conclusion: all ultimately successful writers outline, whether they write it down beforehand, house it in their brains as they go along, or some mix of both.
Further, outlining should be considered an art. And as with any art, the more you practice, the better you get at it.
I thought about this recently as I revisited the first craft book I ever studied, Writing the Novel by Lawrence Block. He has an entire chapter on outlining. His definition is as follows: “An outline is a tool which a writer uses to simplify the task of writing a novel and to improve the ultimate quality of that novel by giving himself more of a grasp on its overall structure.”
He quickly adds: “Because the outline is prepared solely for the benefit of the writer himself, it quite properly varies from one author to another and from one novel to another.”
That’s where the art comes in. No two jazz pianists are alike, but they all know the scales.
Among the NOPs there is an assertion bandied about which Block traces to the sci-fi writer Theodore Sturgeon: “If the writer doesn’t know what’s going to happen next…the reader can’t possibly know what’s going to happen next.”
Block doesn’t think this “logic” holds up. “Just because a writer worked things out as he went along is no guarantee that the book he’s produced won’t be obvious and predictable. Conversely, the use of an extremely detailed outline does not preclude the possibility that the book will read as though it had been written effortlessly and spontaneously….”
Block does not advocate the “copious” outline, but rather chapter-by-chapter paragraphs to describe the action in each, using only enough detail “so that the storyline makes sense.”
Nor is the writer chained to the outline. Inevitably, things grow and change as you write. In those places, Block emphasizes, be ready to deviate from and rework the outline.
That’s the art of it. Like a jazz riff, but still ending up with a coherent tune with an overall structure. (Yes, there is a school—a small school—of music eschewing any effort at tonal coherence, which creates an effect similar to having your head peppered with a nail gun. But I digress.)
My own practice is to outline 14 “signpost scenes” (explained fully in Super Structure). It gives my story coherence (kind of important for readers) and meaning (the latter by way of the “mirror moment”), but also gives me the freedom to riff my way from signpost to signpost.
I actually do my “pantsing” before I lay out my scenes. I start what I call a “white-hot document,” which is me writing fast, following my synapses wherever they lead. (David Morrell does much the same thing, asking and answering questions like “Why?” and “So what?”)
I’ll open each day by revising, cutting, and adding to the document. This is fun and exciting, as the story begins to bubble up and, most important, take shape.
Finally, I start laying out the signpost scenes and brainstorming scenes I’d like to see. Then off I go and write the thing.
I’ll leave the last word with a writer named Dean Koontz, who I’ve heard has sold a few books:
Occasionally I encounter a critic or a would-be writer who believes that an author should let his characters create the entire plot as they act it out. According to this theory, any pre-planned plot line is hopelessly artificial, and it is supposedly preferable for the writer to discover the direction of the story only as the characters discover it. In some arcane fashion, this is supposed to lead to a more “natural” plot.
Balderdash.
When a master furniture maker crafts a splendid Queen Anne-style table, is he being “artificial” merely because he follows an established pattern? Are the paintings of Andrew Wyeth “artificial” because the artist limits himself to a painstakingly realistic rendition of our world?
The answers to both of those questions are, of course, the same: No!
***
If a writer allows his characters to seize total control, he is actually allowing his subconscious mind to write the book without benefit of the more sober and steady guidance of his conscious intellect, and the result is fiction as formless and purposeless as much of what takes place in the real world, precisely the kind of fiction that frustrates most readers. (How to Write Best-Selling Fiction)
Comments welcome.
As mentioned yesterday, I’ve been all over the map in terms of plotting, not plotting, and how much plotting. When I first began to write I leaned toward intensive outlining (though never 80 pages!). But I seem to have less patience for that over the course of time.
On the other hand, since I tend to think of projects in terms of series, I don’t see how you can pursue a series without some degree of outlining. Now maybe it’s different for book series in which you feature a different character prominently in each book, but if you’re writing a series centered around a recurring character, you’d have to know what your overall plan is for your character, rather than just pantsing your way through the first in the series and hoping for the best.
But this is part of the fun of writing–experimenting with how much foundation you lay as you build your storyworld. I may not have found my ideal system or approach, but it’s fun to experiment.
You’re right, BK. Every novel I write has some kind of “experimenting” with it, even if it’s just on some little things. Maybe I’m like Elon, trying to make each new Space X engine more efficient.
The thing with plotting deliberately is that I can examine flow, high points, transitions, and strengthen, shorten, or lengthen sections, in advance, for an overall balance.
Then most of my words – writing them is the hard part – know where to go.
I don’t have to “bring in a man with a gun” because I need more conflict or the middle is sagging or a section feels ‘flat.’ I know how many scenes are told from each main character’s pov – because I designed it that way, and I keep count.
Down in the trenches, writing, I use what has been pre-assigned for a scene – a goal, First Line and Last Line, turning points, omens and prefiguring and foreshadowing, and I don’t have to worry about the whole.
The kind of stories I want to write (and read) don’t just ‘happen’ – Real Life is like that, and often doesn’t make sense. When telling RL stories, I notice people edit and tweak until it’s a ‘better story.’
That’s MY writing brain – works for me. Everyone finds ‘their’ way if they keep producing books.
Not only that, real life is quite often dull as dishwater. That’s why Hitchcock defined a great story as “Life, with the dull bits taken out.”
I used to be a panster, but I want to produce more books in a year, so I turned myself into a plotter. I use Scrivener to chart out how many chapters to fulfill a complete book, then briefly describe what will happen in each chapter. You’ll be happy to know I always highlight the dreaded middle with these words in all caps: MIRROR MOMENT.
🙂
RIGHT ON, JANE!
😁
“riff my way from signpost to signpost.” What a great expression, Jim!
Thanks for this balanced approach to plotting vs. pantsing. It isn’t a battle where one side wins over the other. It’s a buffet of tricks for a writer to pick and choose what works best for them. I fall down more on the pantsing side. But after serious timeline problems with my WIP, I realize it needs more outlining to rearrange the signposts to their proper places.
Always appreciate your Sunday wisdom!
As Block mentions, Debbie, writers often vary their methods from novel to novel. That’s a good thing. We find out what works best for us, and what doesn’t.
Fantastic post on outlining, Jim. This is a terrific rundown on the why and how of outlining. Needless to say, I had no idea you’d written it when I put together yesterday’s WoW. What wonderful serendipity!
Outlining is central to my “leveling up” as a writer and being able to write fiction worthy of being published. I outline before beginning a novel, while in draft, and while revising. It varies depending upon the individual project. I often write a structure outline using signposts. I’ll write out beats. Synopsis. Now, with mysteries, I’ll also write out timelines (including when revising) and what I call “the arc of suspicion,” which maps out the progression of my hero’s investigation. Lists of questions for myself, and my hero can also help.
As noted in your posts, outlines can change. Discoveries always happen when drafting for me. If I get stuck, I pull up to the 30K foot view and do a quick outline of the overall story.
I love the way you put that, Dale: “leveling up” as a writer and being able to write fiction worthy of being published.
And the “arc of suspicion.” Excellent!
Masterful post, from the master, of course!
I’ve never outlined anything. I flunked Outlining 101 in school. Having said that, it’s not because I don’t want to. I actually do want to. I think it’d be fun.
Question: when you (any of you who outline in any way) begin an outline, do you start with Act 1, Act 2, and Act 3, with a paragraph or two of what happens; then build downwards into scenes in each act?
Deb, I think a lot of the resistance to “outlining” is because of bad school experiences! All that numbering and subordinate numbers and … yick. Probably should call it “planning” or “plotting.”
To your question, that’s one to do it. There are any number of approaches. One I’ve used in the past to sit with a cup of brew and a stack of index cards and just starting writing scene ideas on them. Let them bubble up from the basement, not thinking about order. Later, with twenty or thirty cards, I think about where a scene might logically fit, in which Act. Then I further order them within the acts. I don’t use all the scenes from the brainstorming. I add others to get me from one to the next.
Now I use Scrivener with a template I created for my signpost scenes.
Experiment! Play around! This is the fun part.
Thanks, Jim!
Sitting with a stack of blank index cards sounds so fun!
I will try that for the story I’ve been noodling for a couple of months.
I’ll let you know how I do.
👍👍
Great post on structure and outline! As I look back over my short writing history, it seems I’ve had part of a story in mind before I began to write. Maybe it was the particular mystery, the conflict between the characters, or some issue I wanted to work into the story. In one book, I knew exactly what the beginning and ending were, but didn’t have any of the other pieces.
Many thanks to you, Jim, for Super Structure. Now when I begin a book, I write each plot point (signpost) on a separate post-it note and stick it on my three-door closet. As I write the book, I note each scene under the plot points on separate post-it notes. It’s very much an iterative process. Sometimes I post a note about the scene before I write it. Other times I write a scene that I like and post it afterward. But I’m confident the structure is there, and I can easily review it each day before I start to write.
Thanks, Kay. That’s exactly what structure does for us, gives us confidence.
Post-it notes are great! And guess what? They came from a failed experiment. There’s a lesson there, too!
I’ve discussed craft with hundreds of professional authors. Many of those who didn’t use outlines at the beginning of their career ended up using them because of tight deadlines. For me, I learned to use outlines when I entered the romance field. Category romance editors expect three chapters and a complete summary of your story as part of the early submission process. I refined that process into outlines when I moved into longer novels.
That romance discipline is good stuff, Marilynn.
After I noodle the story around in my head, I write a synopsis for my editor detailing the h/h, the problems they have to overcome, and the crime (or crimes) to be solved. Sometimes I use K. M. Weiland’s plot point and pinch point percentages because for some reason percentages make sense to my non-mathematical brain. In Act 2 my h/h are reacting to the antagonist and after the midpoint they are proactive.
I have Writing the Novel by Lawrence Block and need to get it out again. I loved his articles in Writers Digest, and then Nancy Kress’s and then yours. Not too fond of the layout of the current WD.
I was honored to take over that column. I read Block’s columns religiously.
I’ve tried this in the extreme of both ways and neither worked. There is a happy middle space where just enough outlining gives me purpose and direction without stifling the unexpected twists and turns that may arise organically. Great article!