28 June 2021

Why I Still Don't Outline


I am not and never have been an outliner. Short story writers don't use the contemptuous word "pantsers" (for "writing by the seat of the pants") for people who don't outline as much as novelists do. I prefer the term "writing into the mist." There's nothing wrong with writers who outline. I believe that most of us, the more experienced we become in our craft, realize that each of us has a personal process, applying structure and intuition in varying proportions, depending on what works.

Is it honing our craft to keep re-examining our own process, or is it gazing into the mirror à la Narcissus? Maybe a bit of both? With more certainty, I can say it's always worthwhile to hear about the process of others. If a writer admits to using a bit of intuitive magic, it helps me understand why I can't get the same results—I don't have the same gifts. If another writer shares a technique, I can try it. Maybe it will work for me. If it does, I've added to the tools of my craft. If it doesn't, I've gained understanding of the nature of my process and how it differs from that of other writers.

Here's how it works for me. I'm not saying I start by sitting down to a blank page. In fact, I never sit down to a blank page. That doesn't work for me, which is why some writers' tenets of writing every day, writing at a certain hour, or writing a certain number of pages daily wouldn't work for me. There's an "out of the mist" as well as an "into the mist," and "out of the mist" (otherwise known as inspiration, the Muse, the unconscious, or a Higher Power, depending on your belief system and what century you live in) is where the ideas that get me going come to me. It may be a title, a theme, the rough idea for a story, a line of narrative, or characters talking in my head.

This burst of creativity usually comes when my mind is relaxed—and when it's inconvenient to rush immediately to the computer. Some of my best stories have been born while I was lying on my back on the living room floor doing my stretches. But as soon as possible, I get down these initial thoughts and take them as far as I can until the mist closes in again. Sometimes I end up with a page of notes for a story, sometimes with the first page or two of the story itself with notes for where it's going. Now I know what I have to work on next time I sit down to write.

Why don't I outline now? you may ask. Wouldn't it make my task easier? Not if I want to bring the story to life. Over the years, I've finally learned to plot a twisty tale. But I know my greatest strength is character and all that goes into it: dialogue, humor, emotion, and relationships. And the process of creating them is completely intuitive for me. Until the main characters meet and interact with the secondary characters, and until I know who they are and what they'll say, I don't know exactly what the scenes will be and how the story will arrive at what I think will be the conclusion. I have a lot of "maybes" in my notes. But I know there'll be surprises.

I have two major sets of series characters with distinctive and entirely different voices. And I write standalones, mostly in first person, in voices that I try to make distinctive enough that they don't sound like my contemporary series protagonist's voice. I am bemused when I come across writing workshops that suggest aspiring writers learn to "build a character." Even when my notes identify the secondary characters in advance, an unexpected one may pop up—lively, quirky, even important to the plot. As for "building"—I could pre-plan appearance, but who cares about appearance? I could plan personality traits, but I want to "show, not tell." Nothing irritates me more than to read that a character has "a wicked sense of humor," and have that character say nothing more exciting than, "Pass the peanut butter."

There's a certain amount of anxiety in writing into the mist. Until I complete the first draft, even if I have an idea of the outcome, I'm never quite sure I'll make it until I get there. But the joy of creation is very much alive for me in the writing. I haven't squandered any of it in advance.

6 comments:

  1. Liz, great column! I love that idea of writing into the mist -- I never quite thought of it like that, but this is exactly how it feels to me to launch into a new story. I do outline, and for me it's an intuitive process -- sometimes the outline feels wrong, and sometimes it's lifeless. But when I sketch it out, maybe half a dozen lines for a short story, and I get that electric feeling -- well, then I set off into the mist, and I have the confidence that I'll find my way to the other side!

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    1. Thanks, Adam. The key is the electric feeling, however we achieve it. That’s what makes it all worthwhile. :)

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  2. Yes! I don't outline, either, mainly because as you said perfectly, I don't want to "squander any of it in advance." Now granted, when I've gotten half way through and get stuck (which happens a lot), then I might sit and work out what should / must happen next. That or just go for a walk over a bridge and see what comes out of the mist.

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    1. Of course, Eve. We can take the getting stuck for granted. Like the “p” in “pneumonia,” it’s silent but you can’t leave it out. ;)

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  3. Enjoyed this column, Liz. I do outline (at least in my head), and always will, but it's fun to hear about others' processes--and I congratulate you on the success you've had with yours. As for me, if I didn't know the general structure and flow of a story (all the way to the end) before I start, I'd never be able to finish a story. To each his own!

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    1. Thanks, John. You've described your process to me before, and once again, I marvel at how you not only conceive and develop the whole story in your head (and a marvelous and original story it always is!) but hold it there effortlessly, apparently, until you are able to get it down.

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