To Outline is Murder
Lawyers make cases. And I am not lawyer.
But I am going to try to make a case here, right now. At least, I feel strongly enough about what I am going to write to spend a bit of my Saturday evening writing it.
The publishing industry is absolutely filled with dichotomous battles: Independent versus Chain, Commercial versus Literary, Fan Fiction versus Original Fiction, Story Quality versus Marketing, and Outline versus Free Writing.
It is this last one I wish to speak on, although I definitely have opinions on the others listed even as I know I've missed a few of the other polar philosophies. When I first met Terry Brooks, he was on tour for A Knight of the Word and he spoke before his signing. At this time, he and I were not friends and did not work together, but I still listened to his advice when it came to writing. A question was asked about his craft process, and he answered as I would find out later as he always does: 10 words - read read read, outline outline outline, write write write, repeat.
I laughed inside at this mantra when I first heard it. Who outlines past the age of 13? No one. I know I certainly didn't, and none of my friends did. I was almost 23 at the time, having newly changed majors from biochemistry to english, and the thought never occurred to me. Outline? Outline? Outline? It seemed like a way for a bestselling author to dodge such questions like, "Where do your ideas come from?" or "What inspires you to write?" I didn't care what Terry Brooks had written at that point; he was obviously just plain wrong.
But his words stuck with me. I wanted to believe, being a huge fan—and his obvious success was well-documented—but it just seemed too ridiculous, like a bedtime story told to 40-year-old. Over the years after that first encounter, I listened to him say the same thing and eventually I began working for him as his official webmaster. All the while, he preached the outline, and while I made my way through school, I ignored him.
Then he wrote Sometimes the Magic Works, and I finally gave in.
I was in my last quarter at the University of Washington, and working full-time as a manager at B&N along with my various website duties. All of it was really wearing me down. I needed a minor break from reality and I decided to read Terry's new non-fiction book. I needed a way to reduce the stress of that last quarter. It was 2003, I had been working with Terry for three years, and it was time to trust the man when it came to the craft.
I read the book, and fell in love with his process. At least how it looked on paper. I didn't know if it would work for me and I knew from years of listening to other writers speak of their craft that Terry's way might not. To each their own, as someone once said. I decided to give "Outline, Outline, Outline" a chance with my next 20-page paper.
It worked. Or I should say, it worked for me. It gave me structure. It forced me to think my way through the beginning of my paper to its end. I took the thesis, thought of my conclusion, and came up with the various plot points to prove that conclusion true.
And I wrote the paper fast. Really fast. The paper percolated inside for a few days before I started my outline, but once it was outlined the writing was finished in two days. It was simple writing it once the hard work was done. I finished my paper a full week before it was due. And during that week, I got to rework the text until it was something I felt very proud of.
I used the same process for the other two papers that last quarter. The same results happened. And I 3.9ed a very difficult 400-level class (attendence lost me that extra .1).
When I began the process for my first novel, it went very much the same way as that last quarter's work. Just on a larger scale. I had forgotten my earlier qualms about Terry's mantra; I knew what worked for me and if it isn't broke, why fix it? I let the story percolate inside me, working and reworking what I wanted it to be, and then wrote my outline.
Then I wrote my 700-page novel. In nine months.
Many writers do not outline. Stephen King hates it. Some say it removes the creativity from the writing process and makes it stodgy and boring. Maybe for them, it does. Maybe constraint kills it for them. For others, it allows them to live with their story for a long time before putting it down on paper. And that can make all the difference whether or not a story succeeds through to its end. Those writers I mentioned earlier, they sometimes write great openings and terrible endings. I wonder why that is?
As a rebuttal to those people—even though I know the process works differently for each person—I finished my second book's outline a few days ago. I began writing it the very next day and as of a few moments ago I just finished the book's Prologue. While I wrote it, two things happened: 1) I stuck to the outline, and more importantly 2) great creative things came out of it I hadn't imagined while I constructed the outline.
In short, following an outline doesn't need to be a stodgy, boring thing. It is what it is for the right person.
Give outlining a try. Do it right.
If it doesn't work for you, don't do it.
But don't say it doesn't work until you've tried it.
But I am going to try to make a case here, right now. At least, I feel strongly enough about what I am going to write to spend a bit of my Saturday evening writing it.
The publishing industry is absolutely filled with dichotomous battles: Independent versus Chain, Commercial versus Literary, Fan Fiction versus Original Fiction, Story Quality versus Marketing, and Outline versus Free Writing.
It is this last one I wish to speak on, although I definitely have opinions on the others listed even as I know I've missed a few of the other polar philosophies. When I first met Terry Brooks, he was on tour for A Knight of the Word and he spoke before his signing. At this time, he and I were not friends and did not work together, but I still listened to his advice when it came to writing. A question was asked about his craft process, and he answered as I would find out later as he always does: 10 words - read read read, outline outline outline, write write write, repeat.
I laughed inside at this mantra when I first heard it. Who outlines past the age of 13? No one. I know I certainly didn't, and none of my friends did. I was almost 23 at the time, having newly changed majors from biochemistry to english, and the thought never occurred to me. Outline? Outline? Outline? It seemed like a way for a bestselling author to dodge such questions like, "Where do your ideas come from?" or "What inspires you to write?" I didn't care what Terry Brooks had written at that point; he was obviously just plain wrong.
But his words stuck with me. I wanted to believe, being a huge fan—and his obvious success was well-documented—but it just seemed too ridiculous, like a bedtime story told to 40-year-old. Over the years after that first encounter, I listened to him say the same thing and eventually I began working for him as his official webmaster. All the while, he preached the outline, and while I made my way through school, I ignored him.
Then he wrote Sometimes the Magic Works, and I finally gave in.
I was in my last quarter at the University of Washington, and working full-time as a manager at B&N along with my various website duties. All of it was really wearing me down. I needed a minor break from reality and I decided to read Terry's new non-fiction book. I needed a way to reduce the stress of that last quarter. It was 2003, I had been working with Terry for three years, and it was time to trust the man when it came to the craft.
I read the book, and fell in love with his process. At least how it looked on paper. I didn't know if it would work for me and I knew from years of listening to other writers speak of their craft that Terry's way might not. To each their own, as someone once said. I decided to give "Outline, Outline, Outline" a chance with my next 20-page paper.
It worked. Or I should say, it worked for me. It gave me structure. It forced me to think my way through the beginning of my paper to its end. I took the thesis, thought of my conclusion, and came up with the various plot points to prove that conclusion true.
And I wrote the paper fast. Really fast. The paper percolated inside for a few days before I started my outline, but once it was outlined the writing was finished in two days. It was simple writing it once the hard work was done. I finished my paper a full week before it was due. And during that week, I got to rework the text until it was something I felt very proud of.
I used the same process for the other two papers that last quarter. The same results happened. And I 3.9ed a very difficult 400-level class (attendence lost me that extra .1).
When I began the process for my first novel, it went very much the same way as that last quarter's work. Just on a larger scale. I had forgotten my earlier qualms about Terry's mantra; I knew what worked for me and if it isn't broke, why fix it? I let the story percolate inside me, working and reworking what I wanted it to be, and then wrote my outline.
Then I wrote my 700-page novel. In nine months.
Many writers do not outline. Stephen King hates it. Some say it removes the creativity from the writing process and makes it stodgy and boring. Maybe for them, it does. Maybe constraint kills it for them. For others, it allows them to live with their story for a long time before putting it down on paper. And that can make all the difference whether or not a story succeeds through to its end. Those writers I mentioned earlier, they sometimes write great openings and terrible endings. I wonder why that is?
As a rebuttal to those people—even though I know the process works differently for each person—I finished my second book's outline a few days ago. I began writing it the very next day and as of a few moments ago I just finished the book's Prologue. While I wrote it, two things happened: 1) I stuck to the outline, and more importantly 2) great creative things came out of it I hadn't imagined while I constructed the outline.
In short, following an outline doesn't need to be a stodgy, boring thing. It is what it is for the right person.
Give outlining a try. Do it right.
If it doesn't work for you, don't do it.
But don't say it doesn't work until you've tried it.
posted by Shawn C. Speakman | 9:46 PM
6 Comments:
firstly, I'd like to say I like the new background.
secondly, what's the point in setting off on a journey if you don't know where you're headed? Sure, it might be fun for the first few miles, but eventually you'll get lost, frustrated and starve to death.
You are absolutely correct, Tusk. To become frustrated and starve to death means, in writing terms, that the writer has written themselves into a hole they can't get out of. With some preparation in the form of an outline -- even the barest bones of an outline -- that doesn't happen.
Writer's Block, in my very humble opinion, is the inability for a writer to get themselves out of that hole. And there is no cure for that other than starting over and thinking the story through a bit more.
Shawn,
Very eloguent point made and taken.
Would you ever be willing to either post (or email) a sample "outline" you've done for a small chapter to show the form that works for you? I'm one who hasn't been able to make outlines work well for me -- outside of a two sentence description of the main thing that has to happen in the chapter. How long is your chapter outline? What does it look like? Terry didn't put a sample in his book either, and I'm just really interested in what an "outline that works" looks like.
Thanks for sharing.
JScott
I posted a new blog for you, J. Scott. Just remember: It is different for everyone. I crave organized discipline in my life; it makes sense it would be that way in my writing life. It's not always the best thing for others, but it works for me. - S.
I am curious to know how I can start an outline that "works", because I sometimes find myself asking the same ol' question, where is the story to go now?
Sometimes, it works itself out without planning, but I feel, though there's a special magic, I should organize it so the story works, and flows smoother. What are you thoughts, Shawn?
Heroes, I honestly believe that completing an outline only works when the writer knows what the climax of the story is. If you know, then you can sit down and creatively imagine all of the points that it takes to get to the end. If you merely sit down and think, "Well, what is next?" and you don't know the end of the story, you aren't going to get very far because that is what people who don't outline say; they merely let the story come to them.
An outliner looks at their story in its entirety. They see the big picture. That picture includes the climax. And if a person knows the climax and the beginning, they can start building the points in between until they link up. And, not only that, but decide what points are important for the outline of the book.
As to the "magic" aspect of what you are thinking about, if I am understanding you correctly, you are starting a story before you know the bare bones of it. By that, I mean you are beginning a story and you don't know every major aspect of the world.
Terry Brooks calls this period of time Percolation. Over a period of time, you let the world build upon itself until you know most of the things that will effect the outcome of the story. I'm assuming magic plays a part in your novel, but you must know that magic intimately before you even write one word. If you don't, you could accidentally write yourself into a hole or make up something later that actually would have solved a problem quicker earlier in the story.
You must know the major points of the story and what effects it before you write. That is what Percolation is. Once you know the major things, your story can stand on its own even if minor things happen.
I hope that makes some kind of sense.
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