Confessions of a Recovering Plotter
By Anna Elliott | November 2, 2017 |
E.L. Doctorow famously said, “Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” I’ve always loved that quote on writing because it’s so vivid and atmospheric, but for me, at the beginning of my writing career, it wasn’t especially true. In the age-old plotter vs. pantser debate, I would have said that I was a plotter all the way. I loved outlines. L-o-v-e-d them. I would not only outline the book in detail, I would outline each chapter before I wrote it, and then each scene of each chapter, too. I don’t think that effort was at all wasted; it helped me write my first books and land my first publishing contracts, and even more importantly, I think it gave me a deeply ingrained sense of story structure and plot. After writing several books, though, I noticed something: no matter how much I outlined and plotted and planned in advance, a certain percentage of my outlined plot points never made it into the book, because when it came to actually write them, they either just didn’t work– or else more often in the course of the writing process, I would come up with something that actually worked better than what I had originally planned.
Because I like outlines, like I say, and because I also love learning more about story craft, I tried stepping up the plotter game, using things like beat sheets and pinch points and all-is-lost moments. And to be clear, I’m not criticizing any of those things, I think they can be vitally important story elements, I think that using them to structure your novel in advance might work great for some authors. It just . . . didn’t work for me. At all. When I tried to outline my story with that level of structure and detail in mind, all I ended up with was a giant, unworkable mess that I eventually scrapped. I really did love the basic story idea, so maybe I’ll go back to it . . . someday. For now, though, I’ve come to realize that my writing process actually works better if I let go of a little of the control and allow a bit of the pantsing side of things to creep in.
For me, personally, writing is all about knowing the emotional journey that my characters take over the course of the book. So before I start writing, I have three key emotional points in mind: where my characters start out, why they need to change, and then where they end up by the end. Then I come up with plot points that can happen to effect that emotional change. For example, if I had a character who was deathly afraid of heights at the start of the book, and I knew that overcoming that fear was going to be part of his emotional journey, I would need a couple scenes where he faces that fear. Maybe one in which he tries to conquer the fear and fails, and one in which he ultimately succeeds. At any rate, thinking about those key emotional turning points gives me maybe 3-4 key scenes that I can picture in advance before I start writing. And that’s . . . kind of it, really. Once I have that very basic framework of a beginning, a few points in the middle, and an ultimate goal at the end, I can jump in and start writing for the most part without looking back. And it is like making a car trip at night, because there are always the possibility of surprises along the way. A deer may jump across the road and make me swerve out of my lane. My GPS may get stolen, leading me to get lost. But as long as I have those few key story components in mind– but not rigidly so, because even they’re subject to change– I’m okay.
Does the plotter in me miss the security of a more detailed outline? Sometimes, a bit. But one of my favorite talks on the creative process is John Cleese’s lecture on creativity . (And if you take nothing else away from this post, go watch it, seriously, because it is just that good.) At any rate, in his talk, Cleese posits that the best and most successful creative endeavors come from a willingness to exist in a state of uncertainty– a mental state where you don’t have the perfect line of dialogue yet or the perfect plot point, where you haven’t yet discovered what comes next, because it pushes you not to be satisfied with the easy, obvious answer, and to reach for the unique, strikingly creative one. As much as I love my outlines, I do think that’s true, at least for me. If I can let go of my desire to know everything about my story in advance, the writing of it will take me to a deeper level of understanding, one where the story becomes so much more than I ever could have planned.
What about you? Where do you fall on the Plotter/Pantser scale? Have you ever tried changing up your routine by trying one or the other?
Anna Elliott is an author of historical fiction and fantasy. Her first series, the Twilight of Avalon trilogy, is a retelling of the Trystan and Isolde legend. She wrote her second series, the Pride and Prejudice Chronicles, chiefly to satisfy her own curiosity about what might have happened to Elizabeth Bennet, Mr. Darcy, and all the other wonderful cast of characters after the official end of Jane Austen’s classic work. She enjoys stories about strong women, and loves exploring the multitude of ways women can find their unique strengths. Anna lives in the Washington DC area with her husband and three children.
Structuring the narrative around emotional plot points, based on the three essentials you describe–this is gold. Thanks!
From one Anna to another, you’re very welcome! ;-)
I’m a pantser. It is scary to jump right in not know anything at all and exploring the waves of the story to see what’s out there.
But I’ve tried outlining, both accidentally and intentionally, and no, never again. They broke my stories in some fundamental ways that weren’t recoverable. Not only that, doing them wasn’t fun; trying an intentional one made me feel like I’d already discovered the story so there was no point to writing it.
The accidental outlining came from all the craft books. Nearly all of the have the assumption you are outlining, so the advice is framed from that perspective. I actually had to toss out years of writing advice and get back to the basics to separate myself from that.
“They broke my stories in some fundamental ways that weren’t recoverable”. I love that description, it’s really how I have felt at times, too!
Attended MHC 49 last weekend and had long discussions about this topic. MileHiCon is a literary con for sf/f/h writers in Denver. I asked a former panster, current plotter/outliner, how he was able to wrap his mind around the transition. I was looking for the epiphany that would send me sprinting down the outlining path never to look back. Spoiler: No epiphany to be found. We talked about beat sheets and “save the cat” and all of those tools. What worked for him were long walks on short piers–uh, long walks to talk to himself and work out the kinks.
The writer next to us shouted CHARACTER ARCS! Okay, he shouted metaphorically. In reality, he spoke calmly about how he broke through into more productive outlining by using what you discuss above. Finding the core of each of the main characters, figuring out their arcs, and then “outlining” 3, 4, 5 key scenes.
I’m a plantser. I always start out pantsing because I don’t know my characters yet. So I have to write (and often throw away) large chunks of prose to get to who they are and to find out what the hell they’re doing in this book. After I find them (hi!), then I can outline ahead a few chapters at a time (ala Doctorow).
One glorious moment (out of four novels), I worked myself into good fortune and from about the midpoint of the novel I suddenly saw the path clearly to the end and was able to outline (a paragraph or two per chapter) the rest of the book. It was wonderful and I wrote in a white-hot sprint to the end.
But thus far (my four completed novels) I do a lot of pantsing as I find my way, which means a lot of “wasted” words (I know, I know, nothing’s ever truly wasted–conservation of energy and all that), but end up with 30,000 to 50,000 unused words per novel. I chafe at that because how many more novels could I write if I didn’t have all that excess?!
Deep breath. Calm. Serenity now. Festivus for the rest of us.
Alas, plantsing is my process. I am using character arcs for my current novel, but there are all of those other pesky scenes/chapters in and between the main characters’ “arc” scenes to come up with and write. And so I forge ahead into the fog finding my way twenty feet at a time.
That sounds really similar to my process, too! I think as long as you’ve found a way that you’re comfortable with writing and the books are getting written, it’s all good. :)
I feel your pain. I’m a panster, who constantly admonishes herself for not being a plotter. Despite the best of intentions–I’ve started out with index cards, started developing outlines, read Story Genius, downloaded Scrivener, watched a Masterclass with Aaron Sorkin, even bought a cork board and push pins. But to no avail. The closest I come to plotting is when I get about 1/3 to halfway through a draft, I realize I have to figure out timelines, season changes, pregnancies, etc. My conclusion: You have to go with what feels right.
You do have to go with what feels right for sure. Although I have to say, I do LOVE Scrivener, I have written all but 1` of my 20+ published books on it (that one was my very first, when I hadn’t heard of it yet) and I seriously would not be the writer I am without it. But whatever works best for you is what’s best for you!
Great post Anna.
I’ve been a pantser all my life. I tried on many different occasions to outline my stories. But after a page or so I always grow so impatient I have to abandon my outlining and start writing.
However my first drafts tend to be quite skinny. So, in a way, I can say they are a sort of (messy) outline. As you said it’s not about the best method or the more efficient way to write. It’s about the writer and how he or she feels. About our willingness to exist in a state of uncertainty.
After all, Nabokov wrote Lolita on index cards during a long road trip… =)
That’s very interesting, because my first drafts are always WAY overlong and over-written, and then my editing process is all about paring down to sift the gold out of all that silt and dirt. As you say, it’s all about our connection to the story!
This is exactly how I work! Flimsy little first drafts that open the door to the story. Interesting to see them as a sort-of outline…
I used to be a diehard pantser but switched to becoming a methodical plotter after I ended up with several unfinished, hideously tangled novels. I really enjoy the plotting process. I find it very creative. But I’ll admit, I struggle a little with the writing side – it’s a bit like write by numbers :/
Yeah, that write by numbers thing is what opened me up a bit more to the pantsing side of things. It’s a tricky balance, because I still do like to have a general roadmap of what’s coming up ahead in the writing, while still leaving room for surprises both for myself and the reader.
I’m a pantser who has written four novels knowing the beginning and the end, storywise, and some scenes along the way. But I really like your notion of imagining the emotional/change arc of a character and then the scenes that can make that happen. That gives more of a goal for the middle than just a beginning/end scenario. I’m at the beginning of a novel now, and I’m going to give this some serious thought. Thanks for your insights.
You’re very welcome, Ray, I’m so happy if it winds up being helpful!
Pantser here, although I feel as if I should be more structured. This was a timely message, so thanks for sharing your own experience. Special thanks for the link to the talk on creativity. It will fuel me for days!
If you’re craving more structure, there’s no harm in trying out an exercise in outlining and seeing whether it helps at all. Luckily there’s no wrong way, and you certainly don’t have to go all-in with the color-coded flashcards (not that they can’t work for some authors, too) to jot down a quick sketch of where you see your plot going. The John Cleese talk is seriously one of my top 3 favorite lectures to listen to, so glad if you enjoyed it, too!
I’m a confirmed pantser, unpublished at the moment, enjoying the process of rewriting. Because when I have finished the trip, I often find there were signs along the road I had thought about, but passed by. Now knowing the territory better, I have the luxury of driving back there, doing some investigating and realizing this was a stop I should have made–it enhances the overall trip. Great post.
That’s a great way to think about edits! And I actually think it works even if you’re more of a plotter, too. No matter how much you outline, you’ll always have a deeper understanding of the “map” of your story once you’ve written it.
I’m a pantser who believes whole-heartedly in the power of impulse and instinct feeding a draft – getting to that “deeper level of understanding” as you say. Also, love this John Cleese video! Thanks for sharing it!
It can be scary to rely on impulse and instinct, because pretty much by definition, they’re unpredictable and can’t be forced. But I personally find they’re absolutely vital to my writing process.
I think I’ve been a “Wannabe Plotter” but I just couldn’t wrap my head around the complexity. On the other hand, I’d started so many books, gotten after 5 or 6 chapters in, and stalled. So I was kind of desperate about wanting to plot. Then a friend of mine suggested reading this middle-grade book, Frindle, where the chapter headings told me a little about the chapter. Or maybe it was Smekday. They both helped! So I started making these titles, kind of hinting about what I thought might happen in different scenes. So in a way, Anna, I think it’s a kindergarten version of what you advised above. :)
I’m a pantser by nature but after ending up with a first draft I just had to put aside before attempting to impose structure, I plotted my NaNoWriMo project this year. But now that I’m writing, I’ve already made my main character over a decade younger and changed the twist and end. But I feel more confident plodding ahead with a framework to hang my thoughts.
Extreme plotter here – I use Dramatica.
Once everything is there, beginning to end, and everything has a place, the fun part begins, because even though there is very deliberate structure in every single scene, and every single scene locks into the overall structure, that frees the creative writing part of the mind to find out HOW?
I would wander too far afield – and have to dump too much – if I didn’t know what story I’m telling.
Things might get reassigned somewhat during the writing – a point moved ahead in time by a day now belongs in a different scene, etc. – but it’s like working on a tapestry with elastic embroidery thread, rather than cuttting colors off and starting them randomly.
I don’t recommend it to anyone. I’ve resigned myself to being odd woman way out.
But I absolutely love the results.
And that’s the only thing which counts for a writer.
Loved the John Cleese’s lecture on Creativity! Thanks for that!
Anna:
Your advice is so simple, it’s brilliant! Well, maybe not brilliant, but terribly helpful. Ditto Dana McNeely’s idea to give each scene a title to keep it on track and focused. Thanks!
It truly is funny how different people are when it comes to plotting vs pantsing. I think Chuck Wendig put it best when he said that sometimes you need to draw a map and other times you need to set the map on fire. For me, pants will always be first. I need to have some spark of an idea but I need it let it run and see where it takes me first. Then I can go back and plan retroactively.
In one part of my WIP, I had my antagonist capture my band of protags and I knew I wanted a particular protag to fix the situation, but I didn’t know, or care, how. He came up with the best idea, pretend to swear loyalty to my antagonist and use that to free him. It’s a great idea, but because it is almost more than he can handle because he has to torture the MC.
I outline and here is how I look at it. I live in Eugene, Oregon. I was born and raised in Burlington, Washington. About 80 miles north of Seattle. If I were to outline my trip there would be a single line aiming north. It may weave a little to the left and right but other than that I know where it is headed. Outline a story is the same way for me. My story outline goes in a certain direction. It weaves here and there but it doesn’t show the stops, the turns and drama inside the car. It simple keeps me from heading south.
For someone just transitioning from nonfiction (memoir) to historical fiction, this is a timely post. I like your process and since I’m not a lover of outlines, I will likely use something similar. Kudos to those commenting! Your discussion has been most helpful in setting my eyes on my goal with this project.