Category Archives: The Fictorians

To Pants or to Plan?

There are two opposing camps when it comes to how an author approaches writing their novel.  On one side are the story ‘pantsers’, those who sit down with only a vague idea of their story and start typing.  They discover the story through the act of writing it, usually through a multiple re-drafting process.  On the opposite side are the ‘planners’, those authors who sit down and design a story to the nth degree before they actually begin the first draft.  They might write almost as many words in the outline as they do in the first draft, but end up with fewer re-writes most of the time.  Both camps have their avid followers who trumpet the benefits of doing it their way while pointing out the drawbacks of the other philosophy.

I’ve found that most authors fall somewhere in the middle between these two philosophies.  We plan some, and we free-write some.  Authors will shift along the spectrum between the two philosophies from one project to another, or as their level of experience changes.

I started as a total discovery writer, complete with many drafts of my first novel as the story evolved and I figured out what I was really writing about.  Over time, and as I’ve gained a better mastery of the craft, I’ve crept across the spectrum toward the opposite camp.  The more of an outliner I become, the more up-front work I invest in a story before beginning to write.  Once the outline is ready, I can schedule a ‘burst-writing’ session – a focused period, several days to a week, where I can pound out tons of work based on that outline.  I did that last year and wrote 52,000 words in one week.  I’m planning to do so again soon with my next novel.

I’ve developed the following outline process:
1.  First I do all the high-level brainstorming for the new story.  This can take a while as I chew on a new idea and work it from the initial proposal into a viable story worthy of serious consideration.  Lots of ideas don’t make it past this first step.

2.  Once I feel the story has promise and I’m starting to get a good sense for it, I write down the foundational information I’ve developed so far.  This includes character sketches, world-building, and initial plot ideas.  The process of writing it all down and trying to work it into a logical, comprehensive whole identifies gaps and leads to new inspiration in fleshing out the world, characters and plot.

3.  I develop the high-level plot outline.  In my current story, this ended up being about 8000 words.  I choose scenes, decide which characters to populate them, high-level conflicts, and how each scene will drive the plot forward.  At this point, I’m looking to get my first full view of the complete story arc from beginning to end.  I develop arcs for each major character to ensure I’m addressing things from each of their perspectives, and considering the plot through each of their eyes.  This process yields tons of fresh insights, new twists to consider, and helps the story really come alive.

4.  If this is a brand new story (as opposed to a sequel), I find it useful to write the first few chapters based on the high-level outline.  This helps solidify the character voices and the feel for the world and how the story is going to work.  I get ‘locked in’ to the story this way.  I can usually tell if I’m on the right track now, or if there’s something still fundamentally wrong with the plot, characters, or world.

5.  I develop what I call a mid-level outline.  I run through the outline again, fleshing out the scenes, clarifying and adding detail.  For some of the important scenes, I add sections of dialogue or work out how I’m going to approach the action sequences.  This is particularly helpful in planning complex endings.

This is the step I’m on right now.  I’ve taken the 8000 word high-level outline and expanded it to about 15,000 words so far.  I’ll probably complete the outline at about 20,000 words or so.  At that point, I could do another pass and produce even more detail, but the story is really coming alive for me, so I don’t think that will be necessary.

When I begin writing scenes for the first real draft, I keep the outline in mind, but this is where I free-write.  The outline is the framework and helps me identify when my free-writing takes me off on new tangents.  Sometimes those tangents are awesome – a flash of inspiration that I could not have figured out unless I was in ‘the zone’ writing full scenes.  Sometimes they’re a bad idea that takes the story off a cliff.  Any time I break the framework, I need to go back and analyze how this change will impact the story.  Either it’s brilliant and the rest of the story needs to change as a result, or it’s a false-start that needs to be chopped.

If I decide to keep it, I have to make sure I can still maintain the story integrity.  I have to ask:  do my plot points and story arcs and character arcs still make sense?  Will pacing be right?  Will the ending still work?  Adjustments often need to be made.

This sometimes seems like a lot of work, but it’s actually a lot less than the alternative.  This way I can identify the impacts to the story early on and choose how to address it.  Before, I would keep writing, maybe all the way to the end of the story before I realized other components needed to be changed.  That would require an entire new draft, which was a lot more re-work and took a lot more time.

Through this blended outline/free-write approach, I’ve dramatically cut down how long it takes to write even a big-fat-epic-fantasy novel like mine.

How do you approach a new novel?

 

Kevin J. Anderson: Outside, In the Office

A guest post by Kevin J. Anderson

Everybody knows the best way to get writing done: put your butt in the chair, fingers on the keyboard, eyeballs on the screen…and type.

Unfortunately, with distractions everywhere (kids or pets demanding attention, phone ringing, email popping up, toilets that need cleaning…), the butt/chair/keyboard/monitor setup isn’t always the best way to be productive.

Maybe you need to think outside the keyboard.

I regularly write, and publish, an average of 300,000-500,000 words each year.  To me the word “office” is only a loose term for the place where I get my writing done.  I can sit in a bustling coffee shop with headphones on, and disappear into my story.  I can take notes on the paper tablecloth in an Italian restaurant.  I can write anywhere.

Most importantly, I have trained myself to write using a hand-held recorder while walking along beautiful trails, sinking into my imaginary worlds and characters. Yes, I talk to myself.  It’s like telling stories around a campfire, engrossed in the plot, speaking aloud, letting the sentences roll off my tongue as my hiking boots roll off the miles.  That way I can accomplish my exercise and sightseeing while being productive at the same time. A day in the mountains, forest, or desert is a day at work.

Sometimes other hikers I meet on the trail aren’t quite so accepting of my work methods.  More than once I’ve been the recipient of angry glares.  While climbing around the Flatirons near Boulder, a man snapped at me, “You shouldn’t be working out here.  Just enjoy nature!”

(As if the two are mutually exclusive?)

At a campsite on the Grand Mesa, I was surrounded by tall trees whispering in the wind, near a rushing creek.  I had my laptop out on the picnic table, reveling in the glorious surroundings as I edited chapters.  Another camper felt compelled to march over to me.  “Turn that thing off!  You’re on vacation.”

Personally, I thought he should mind his own business, but more important he was making a completely unfounded assumption.  The fact is, I wasn’t on vacation.  That was my work day.  While other people are doomed to go to the daily grind in a “dilbertville” office complex with fabric-walled cubicles, ringing phones, office gossip, and endless meetings, I get to do my work out in the Colorado mountains and canyons.  There, I am inspired rather than distracted, all my senses filled with input (some of which is even relevant to the story I’m writing).

I have written a STAR WARS novel with Han Solo and Princess Leia at the polar cap of an ice planet while snowshoeing up Quandary Peak, a 14,265-ft mountain in central Colorado.  I’ve written DUNE novels with Brian Herbert — all of them set on an arid desert planet — while trudging through the Great Sand Dunes National Park.  I’ve written about ancient ruined alien cliff cities for my “Saga of Seven Suns” while exploring Anasazi ruins in Mesa Verde.

It’s the next best thing to being in the exotic locales of my imagination.

So don’t be fooled by the stereotypical picture of writer slaving over a computer at a desk.  If you feel too self-conscious to talk to yourself and dictate finished prose, then just mull over ideas, characters, history and take notes.  Or if that doesn’t work, just try a different place-take your laptop (or even a pen and paper notepad…they still function) and go to a coffeeshop where people don’t know you, or hide in a library carrel.  My wife even sits in a car in a parking lot and dictates into her recorder when she really needs to get something done.  Think about going into the “writer protection program” and disappear for a while.

For me, the way to do it is to get miles away from anybody looking for me.

So if you see me on the trail talking to myself, intent on something inside my head, remember — I’m not on vacation, I’m working.  And I’d rather be working here outside on the trail than in any other office in the world.

Guest Writer Bio: Kevin J. Anderson is the author of more than one hundred novels, 47 of which have appeared on national or international bestseller lists. He has over 20 million books in print in thirty languages. He has won or been nominated for numerous prestigious awards, including the Nebula Award, Bram Stoker Award, the SFX Reader’s Choice Award, the American Physics Society’s Forum Award, and New York Times Notable Book. By any measure, he is one of the most popular writers currently working in the science fiction genre. Find out more about Kevin at Wordfire.com.

Sunday Reads: 8 April 2012

Welcome back! Another week gone and here’s another 10 of our favourite reads.

 

Considering writing in first person? James Scott Bell discusses some of the pitfalls in First Person Boring.

Kidlit.com talks about drawing the reader in by Eliminating the Frame.

Time to start those rewrites? Writer Unboxed has a great post about How to Think Like An Editor.

Tim Kane has a cooking-inspired post in Layering Flavors In Your Writing.

AC Wise made me stop and think hard about my current manuscript with Heroine Quest, or The Fairytale Problem.

And while we’re talking about heroines, Marcy Kennedy discusses How To Keep Strong Female Characters Likeable.

Terrible Minds highlights 25 Lies Writers Tell (And Start To Believe In).

Over at Rock Your Writing, they’re talking about How To Build a Writer’s Support Network.

Jane Friedman outlines 5 Principles for Using Facebook.

Jody Hedlund has 3 Ways To Find the Perfect Opening For Your Story.

And James V Smith Jr explains The Dos and Don’ts of Novel Endings.

 

 

Method Writing

Ever had your heart broke?  Or lost someone you love? Or been in a traumatic accident?  Or been scared witless?  Or held your baby for the first time?  Or got married? Or any host of circumstances where you felt an emotion strongly, so strong that even remembering it causes your heart to race or your skin to get goosebumps?  Method actors use sense memory to recreate an emotion they can tap into for acting scenes.  I’m going to suggest that writers do the same thing.  It’s not the only way – but it is one way.

If we can connect with our emotions to write a better scene, I think we should.  Not gonna say it can’t be exhausting, but then it depends on the emotion – right?  Being really in tune with our feelings is not always easy, remembering difficult ones  – even harder.  But, if I can make a reader cry because my character is sad over a loss, then I am doing my job.   

When I read, I read to feel a certain emotion.  David Wolverton/Farland said (and I’m paraphrasing) that we like genre fiction because of the emotions it brings out in us and they are mostly named for the sense of what they inspire in us – SciFi/Fantasy – a sense of wonder, romance – romance, mystery/suspense – a thrill of suspense….and so on…. Seems obvious, right?  But, I’ll admit I hadn’t thought of it until he said it.  And, I have to be in the right mood to read a certain genre.  And, I have to know what the genre is before starting or I will have an incorrect set of promises to be kept by the writer.

As a tangent – ever start reading something expecting one thing and then it doesn’t meet your expectations?  Every time this has happened to me, it was because the rules of the genre weren’t being met.  We make contracts with our readers (again paraphrasing Dave and others) by identifying with a genre.

When I read romance, I better know right away who my hero and heroine (h/h) are and no matter the ups and downs (required) they have to go through they better end up in love at the end.  That’s what I expect when I pick up a romance and that’s what I better get or I am going to be one unhappy camper.

Each genre has their own specific rules or expectations and we, as writers, need to follow them in order to keep our readers reading.  Tangent over.

Now – why are these emotions so important and why would I want to relive potentially painful memories in order to write?  Because if I can remember how I felt living that emotion, I may be better able to convey it to my reader.  I write romance, so when the h/h are having troubles and are feeling sad or angry over those troubles, I need to have my reader identifying with that sadness or anger.  I want them to cry or ball up their fists alongside the character.  I want them to laugh or get turned on right beside the character.  The emotion should resonate with them.  No matter what that emotion is.

So, I challenge you as writers to remember those strong emotions, recall what was going on with your body – shallow breathing, increased heart rate, tight chest, big smile, chills, and so on.  Remember and write from that place.
Gift your readers that experience.  Be a Method Writer.