I’ve been thinking a lot about plot recently, trying to gain some insights into why it is that outlines so far haven’t worked for me. It ought to be simple enough to write down what happens, right? And then the meaning hangs on that. If I get to know the characters better as I go along, that shouldn’t change what happens, right?
Wrong, apparently. I need to go deeply into the characters before the story hangs together, and to do that, I have to find out what they do in the story. Very circular. So that’s how I’ve been writing, in a circular fashion, in a process that bears a passing resemblance to Ingermanson’s “snowflake” outline, only more random. It’s time consuming but produces good results, so I’m not complaining too much. But why does it work that way? What is it that more conventional outlines leave out?
The answer, it appears, is meaning.
I don’t mean meaning as in that theme-and-symbol stuff that kill so many readers in high school. But everything that happens has significance to the characters, and it goes far beyond just what happens next, which is what the basic plot is about. It’s the string of events that make up the story. Most stories are also influenced by another layer, the details of how it happens — the complications and setbacks that turn a string of events into a more dramatic structure.
Even the most plot-oriented stories don’t operate well at this level. Romances, thrillers, mysteries tend to be straightforward, but if they don’t go beyond the what and the how, they seem like shadow plays. For the characters to have real depth, the story has to get into why it happens — the motivation. And that’s when things start to change, because motivation can go deep. The deeper it goes, the better the story — but also, the more complicated the situation becomes. Characters with motivation want things, and they react to things, and that means what happens in the story changes them. This is good. This is what makes a character arc. But that also means that the character I’ve developed sometimes won’t do the thing I had planned in the plot. It would be out of character.
So the character acts and changes things, and those things change the character. Not just the MC, though. This is true for every single character in the story.
Relationships are changing. Dynamics are changing.
And that’s where another aspect comes in. The events mean something to the characters. The fact that one of my MC’s has an ex-boyfriend who is closeted, so their relationship was never public, so they can’t have a real breakup without giving the relationship away, isn’t just background accounting for why Nicky’s single at the moment. It’s not even just baggage. It causes unexpected complications in what seem like simple events. If Nicky doesn’t go to a certain event because he doesn’t want to run into the ex, reporters will notice. If he sucks it up and goes, the new guy in his life is jealous. The event’s the same as it was in the original outline, but all the context has changed.
And it occurred to me that for the kind of fiction I write, the entire story is taking place at this level. The events don’t really matter. They’re just a stage for the emotional interaction to take place on.
So it isn’t that the outline isn’t working. It just isn’t telling me what I need to know.
Anybody have thoughts on this? Ideas? Does it fit in with your own observations? Am I way off base here?
Yeah, you’re following the path of emotional development, and it doesn’t matter about the outward form of the events, but what the characters do with them, how they progress.
How does one plan for that? Is writing randomly through until I figure it out the only option?
I don’t know, truthfully. It’s been so long since I did any writing, and all I know is how I do it, which has always been the same.
Bonnie, I CAN’T pre-plot. I’ve tried and every single time either I lose interest in the story (I’ve already told this! Boring!) or it just is flat and emotionless as dust. I have to let the characters lead the show. It’s the only way that works for me. For me, the plot is like the stage the characters act on and the stage marks they follow. It can be ornate and detailed, or little more than boxes and shadows. Doesn’t matter. It’s the characters that matter, the characters we follow. You can have the best plot in the world, full of great happenings and action and romance and whatever, but if the characters aren’t living, breathing real people who are compelling and interesting, then the whole story falls apart. Nobody cares about happenings, it’s the people that matter. However, take those living breathing real compelling characters and put them in a single empty room with nothing but their personalities, baggage, fears, hopes, and dreams to confront one another with, and it can be an amazing, compelling read.
At least that’s how I see it. Characters first. The rest is dictated by them.
I was at Mount St. Helens today. I couldn’t remember the number or names of anyone who died in 1980 — it was the eruption (the happening) that stayed with me. So I have to disagree with people not caring about the happenings but only the people involved.
Right. But that was a real life big event. A book is a book. And, for me, the driving force behind a book is character.
Also, there is a person involved: you. That’s where the significance lies. Without you perceiving it, there’s just a pile of rock.
How does that play out for you in practical terms, though, especially in the planning stages? Your novels are mysteries, basically, so you’ve got to have a plot that hangs together, even if it starts from the characters. Do you just wing it? What do you give your editor when s/he asks for an outline??
I make it all up as I go. The more I plan, the harder it all is for me to write. I do have a kinda/sorta loose but not really set ‘plan’ – like I knew that Threads would be Dub meeting his version of john Wayne Gacy, and I knew that one of the boys would be a victim, not much more than that, actually – but I don’t have any specifics at all. I just start with the problem, dump it on my characters’ heads, and see where it goes. I do a lot of revision in the second draft, but going in I have a one sentence concept and not much more. ‘Dubric meets John Wayne Gacy’ was exactly, word for word, how I pitched the story to my editor. Really. I didn’t know about any of the new characters or that half of the book would be Dien’s family or what problems they would face or anything. I started with Dubric and a messenger telling him boys were disappearing, and I let it unfold how it unfolded with no restrictions, direction, or pre-conceived plan.
But I’m weird. :p
You don’t know what a relief it is to know that :D. I hear again and again that I have to learn how to outline if I want to be a professional, that I’ll have to have it for agents and editors, that I won’t be able to produce a book a year if I don’t know how to outline, etc. So I’ve been trying my hardest to learn, even though it hasn’t worked and I’ve sent myself into at least one bad slump through thinking that way.
Because it’s, like, not fun any more.
Time to stop, I guess. Time to just write.
You have to remember that I already had an editor, at least at the point that she was interested in buying Ghosts and my agent said to pitch a couple more ideas, one of which was Threads (the other, honestly, was ‘something with werewolves’ lol I’m so vague!) but to get a NEW editor/publisher, they like to have a proposal packet (three chapters, synopsis and outline) or a finished book. It’s one reason I decided to write on spec, the whole pre-planning thing doesn’t work for me, no matter what I try. It’s by no means a perfect solution, and it’s not the easiest way to pursue an already incredibly difficult career, but it’s the way I’m wired.
If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. {{hugg}}
I have no issues with extracting an outline from a finished, or mostly finished, novel. *g* It’s the other way around that doesn’t happen. I can see that it’s less than ideal, but not writing, or writing stories I don’t care about, is even less ideal.
It seemed like the three Dubric stories came out pretty quickly, like about a year apart, so it sounds like you were able to write them pretty quickly despite lots of revision? I remember you talking about that saga when it happened. Is there anything you’ve found that speeds up your process?
Yeah, they were a year apart (and, actually, I *can* write a first draft in about 6 weeks if I do essentially nothing else but write, sleep, eat, and shower lol) Realistically, though, a first draft usually takes me about 6 months, then another 3 for revision, so about 9 months. Ish. With life drama sprinkled in. And after I turn in a book I take a little time off (a couple of weeks or so) plus there were revisions and edits and marketing and proofs and all that stuff for the book that’s in production… and that, too, takes a good deal of time.
The only thing that really sped me up at all was the absolute, unbreakable drive to turn it in on time, preferably before the deadline. That and focused dedication to just get the work DONE. I don’t really have anything other than that, focusing on the work. {{hugg}}
Yeah, it all boils down to doing the work, doesn’t it? No matter how it’s done, no matter what process, it’s still the butt-in-chair part that gets the words out of the head and into the world.
Thank you very much. This is all very useful, and encouraging. Now I’m going out to put that butt in that chair for the rest of the afternoon.
I’m weird (but you knew that). Motivation is, for the most part, something I only care about because editors do. I want to know what happens, and not all that angst in an empty room. But that’s me.
On the other paw, that doesn’t mean I want cardboard characters. Dan Brown’s writing is too extreme for me. So I guess I care a bit. And I can see what you’re saying about Nicky. I just put that into the outline (or change the outline accordingly when I get to that point) if it’s important to the story.
Of course, you and I write very different stories.
Yes, we write very different stories, and what you do for your stories is right for them. I’m talking about a difference of focus, not saying that either kind of story (or anything in between) is better.
The issue for the outline isn’t that it needs to change as I write. It’s that it doesn’t tell me much about the needs of the deeper story, very little about the reactions and implications of what happens down the road, very little about the significant character interactions. At least I know now why it doesn’t work for me.
And I guess the next question is, if that’s the reason outlines don’t work, are there other tools and techniques that might help me dig out some of that information earlier in the process, without rewriting the whole thing five or six times?
I know some people get at the deeper issues by doing character sheets or interviews. Those don’t work for me, but they might be useful for you.
Or maybe mind-mapping/brainstorming?
Mm, mind-mapping is a good idea. I used to do those a lot when I was writing computer programs, but never thought of applying it to fiction. Character sheets and that kind of stuff don’t usually work for me because they seldom really get at anything important about the character, let alone about how the relationships between characters are going to play out.
I do a lot of brainstorming, much of it in the form of trial scenes. In a way, the whole exploratory draft, and often the first draft, are brainstorming. “Let’s see. I could tell it this way. Or I could tell it that way! Or–”
I’m a very emotional internal writer – my scenes tend to be based around some emotional thing happening and the action comes later.
When I do my outlines therefore I tend to outline the emotional journey using all the verbs that Holly Lisle hates to see in outlines like decides, feels, thinks, etc… and very few of the action conflict related verbs. As I write the actions and conflicts that rise out of the internal emotional states come.
So how about trying to outline the emotions of the story instead of the plot?
Hm, that’s a good thought. I’m usually aware of the emotional/psychological/spiritual lines, but I’ve never actively worked with them like that. Thanks!
I know what you mean! I have a general idea of how my plot is going to pan out, but as you say, every interaction changes relationships. I find that I don’t really connect with characters until I’m writing their scenes in the story – character sheets and other prep work are too mechanical for me. I’m now struggling with a chapter because the plot demands a big revelation of what’s really going on, but when I try to put it on the page my protagonist really freaks out and just wants to run away! *lol*
I guess the only solution is to keep your outline really loose, then be prepared to write a rough exploratory draft where you find out if you and your Muse can agree on where the story is going. It may not be as “by the book” as writing to a strict outline, but if that’s the way your mind works…
I guess you get to figure out a way to pin your protagonist to the page and make him/her stand in there. That’s always so much fun. *rubs hands evilly*
Somewhere I have a pretty good character sheet; it asks about how the character felt about childhood events, and that sort of thing. But most of the others are more like filling out a missing persons form than getting to know a real person.