Whether to Outline or Not

 

Every writer has her own process for writing. Some outline at the very beginning, some begin the outline at the mid-point, others go through the manuscript when the first draft is finished just to see if the story doubles back on itself or wanders too far afield. Still others never write an outline on paper, but rather, keep a running outline in mind.

There are different types of outlines for different writers and projects. If a student is fortunate during her school days, she’s taught how to outline a chapter in a book, for instance, as a way to study effectively. She learns about themes and topic sentences; about beginning, middles, and ends; and about writing conclusions that tie up all the loose ends.

This type of outline for story, essay, memoir, etc., can create an extensive piece of work. Detail is fantastic, if you have the time for it. Often a writer doesn’t have such a luxury as time and must develop the quick and dirty outline template for specific types of manuscript.

A template is a format, pre-staged, which allows the writer to plug in the information for use in the article or story. For instance, with travel writing there are a possible seven types of templates, each dictated by a specific type of travel article.

Once the template is ready, the writer has only to fill in the blanks provided by the template. Oddly enough, this type of template needn’t be a physical one. It could, just as easily, occupy a page in a notebook used for writing specs. The critical issue is to have specs for use in a particular type of article, such as a destination article.

Mysteries, westerns, romances, and fantasies can all use templates, albeit short ones, to get particulars in place so that the writer knows the direction intended, people involved, and final results. Any kind of genre is able to use a template; because, in fiction, there are a finite number of plots; in non-fiction, criteria follow particular channels of information presentation to be effective.

“Organic” writers—those who sit down and start writing without planning anything beforehand—often never use an outline; at least, consciously. Instead, they allow their subconscious to drive the story to its conclusion. The process can seem chaotic to the wordsmith who is meticulous in planning a story.

NaNoWriMo is a challenge for all writers, but those who work from an organic perspective do well with it. For them, revision is the time for taking the story apart, moving sections, rebuilding point connectors, and devising a smooth road for their words.

Allow preliminary scenes to build the story outline. Tagging along behind the organic writers are those who create individual scenes that stand alone while developing the story. Scenes sometimes erupt in the writer’s mind, demanding to be put down on paper. These scenes may have nothing to do with what’s gone before and have no obvious relationship with the mental plotline the writer is using.

Many of these writers create an outline with these scenes. This type of outline allows the writer to see the story in broader scope than a simple line draft. A scene outline shows the writer big chunks of action, dialogue, character development, etc. Writers who think in pictures can get great satisfaction out of this type of planning, since it encourages an intimacy with the story that is often lacking in other types of outline structure; it requires real writing, not just a listing of points.

Character outlines can help build subplots that work effectively with the overall story. Any character has depth if the writer looks for it. Taking the time to explore principle characters through this process can help find both flaws and virtues in each character. In order to be perceived as real by the reader, depth of character is necessary.

Flaws, attitudes, deep moral beliefs also help steer the character into subplots if the writer allows for it. Asking the character pertinent questions about the whys, wherefores, how’s, and all the rest of her life can find answers that take the story to interesting places with exciting results.

Outlines can be as elaborate or skimpy as the writer chooses to make them. If you talk to epic fantasy writers, you’ll probably hear about all of the different types of outlines each uses to keep their overall story straight. You’ll also hear about how many times those outlines are revised to take into account unexpected changes that come up during the story writing process.

Fluidity is the name of the game when using these devices to help the writer stay on point. Each outline will change to some degree after it’s written, just as every story changes during revisions. The importance of this listing of targets to hit with your writing, whether kept as mental notes or in a notebook the size of Kansas, shows itself when the story is finished, polished, and submitted to the editor.

Whether Ready or Not

 

“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred… Ready or not, here I come.”

That’s how most of us remember playing Hide and Seek; a bunch of giggling and squealing kids racing around, desperate for a hiding place, one slightly peeking “it” person with head buried—not too seriously—within her arms against a tree/wall, and an anticipated thrill of the hunt.

Being a writer is very much like that game played during childhood. We never forget the rules of the game. We continue to chase, with the anticipation of the hunt, counting days instead of seconds until we hear back from a publication about a submission, and squealing with delight when we make a connection with an editor who likes our material.

We understand that, sooner or later, we’ll get caught peeking when we shouldn’t. Editors tend to frown on those writers whose patience runs out before their manuscripts have had time to go through the editorial process. The ability to wait without fussing keeps editors happy.

The game is played the same way, regardless of which aspect we’re facing.

The game parameters that cover territory available for play are decided first. For instance, if we’re doing a preliminary work-up for a new story, novel, essay, or other lengthy prose piece, certain devices and work gets done first. Synopses, character studies, full outlines and the like are usually thought out to some degree before actual writing begins. It’s understood that these will change as writing continues.

Some writers, like me, have done preliminary work in their heads and will wait until after their writing begins before nailing down specifics in an outline. Other writers jot down entire scenes as they pop into the mind and string those scenes together into a loose story later, as a kind of first draft. However the writer chooses to design their work requires planning, whether subconscious or not.

During the writing process, bits of research necessary to the story can be as wily as any good Hide and Seek player. Winkling out the precise information needed can be tricky and time consuming; like racing from one likely hidey hole to another, looking for the last kid hiding. It takes forethought and planning about the likeliest search pattern to dispel one’s frustration in the search.

Once all the players are accounted for within the writing search, a huge chunk of the work is completed. That chunk, comprised of precise words and phrases, information for accuracy, and the most effective organization of the material, determines the rest of the hunt.

Polishing the copy, finding the best markets for submission, whether to agent or publication, and writing either query letters or cover letters take the writer to that moment of true anticipation about possible outcomes. Soon only patience and distraction will take over. A need to write something else will emerge to move the writer back to the keyboard.

Playing Hide and Seek this way never grows dull. It can be exasperating, tedious, inexplicably easy, and all stages in between, but never really dull. Perhaps that’s why those of us who knew from an early age that they needed to write can never put it away. The game hides within us, seeking expression, whether anyone ever reads our words or not. We must still play.