A love letter to outlining
This post is an ode to outlines. Ever since I started writing, I’ve been what’s known as a “pantser” (the technical term for people who write with a rough idea of a story, but nothing that concrete). It got me through over a decade of writing, but pantsing has always been hard for me. Even harder was just the thought of writing an outline prior to starting a story. To me, outlining felt structured, stiff, and like more of a challenge than just winging it.
Seriously. I’m completely sure that pantsing works well for many writers, but maybe I was an outliner this whole time and never realized it until I actually tried doing it. To be fair, my first outline was for The Trouble With Shooting Stars, which is a write-for-hire novel I wrote with Cake Literary. They supplied a beautiful outline for me and I was there to weave the story together. It was shocking how fast the process went and how easy it was to write when I had a rough idea of what needed to happen in each scene. It completely changed how I think of the writing process.
I’m still new to this outlining business, but I feel like it’s added a new element to my pre-writing ritual of late-night notes on my phone or various scraps of paper on my nightstand. It’s giving me the bones to which I can adhere “world building muscles” and “character connective tissue” (a story is a lot like a living, breathing creature, after all. If I’m going to follow this metaphor all the way through would revision be the soul? Maybe something to explore later).
For outliners, this might all sound incredibly ridiculous. But for those like me who were resistant to this kind of process, it’s honestly helped me become more efficient in my storytelling. I haven’t picked up the pen in a serious fashion for my latest middle grade novel. Instead, I’m outlining it first (along with the typical character sketches and world building).
The outline for my new middle grade, currently untitled, isn’t the prettiest thing in the world, but it’s a huge leg up. I have an ending! A real live ending. A middle, too! No murky middle right now. It’s nice being able to see the story from up this high and getting a sense of the ebbs and flows, where there’s a lot of meat and where I need to focus, before getting so far into the weeds of writing that I don’t have any idea how to get out.
On that note, outlines are also a great way to keep a pulse on your characters. You can see where they appear and disappear (why did their uncle show up in chapter one and not return again until chapter 15?). You can also keep an eye on how the world unfolds and what plot points need to be brought up sooner to clarify any confusion. All these issues that took me several drafts to work through can now be lessened (to some degree — revision and multiple drafts will always be crucial) with the help of an outline.
Here’s a snippet of how my outline’s going. Please don’t judge me for sentence fragments, poor grammar, or weird tangents. I’m resolved that my outlines won’t be perfect (hard for a perfectionist like me), but it’s helpful. I hope this example and my ramblings on the subject might help you, too.
Lottie and Laurie Outline
Chapter 1: Lottie
Lottie wakes up and it’s her birthday. She gets ready while explaining her family life and that she and her twin brother, Laurie, are telepathic — a secret they’ve kept from everyone but their estranged granny. She also talks about their terrible stepmother and their dead mom. Laurie comes to her room and his left arm has been bitten clean off by Gigante Verde, the prize alligator at their uncle’s oddities museum. Legend says he’s got a map to the underworld on his back. Lottie tells Laurie she’s got a present for him from their dad’s work closet — where he hides away their mom’s belongings from their evil stepmother. Laurie is worried about their stepmother finding out. Laurie and Lottie go down to breakfast and see their father. He’s excited for their birthday, but clearly sad. Harriet (stepmom) is burning breakfast in the kitchen. She retreats there and burns everything up when she’s upset. Their breakfast is tense. Dad reminds them of dinner at the hotel later that day (6PM sharp). They agree and leave to go to their uncle’s museum.
Chapter 2: Laurie
Laurie tells Lottie she needs to be nicer and maybe she’ll feel happier. They walk through town as Lottie rips off hunk of burnt cinnamon roll. They arrive at their uncle’s museum and look through his latest curiosities. He tells them the story of Gigante Verde again, their favorite story, and how he was born in the underworld, but swam here eons ago. He’s the oldest gator in the world and has a map to the underworld on his back. Lord knows what he’s got in his belly (aside from Laurie’s arm). Lottie leans over the pen to see the outline of the map. Laurie is too scared after what happened to him. Uncle gives them presents for their birthday. He gives Lottie a gold heart shaped picture necklace with their mother’s picture in it. He gives Laurie a pocket knife their uncle says is edged with a magical poison (think through this). Both leave before giving Gigante Verde one last look, wondering about his scaly back.
Chapter 3 Lottie
Outside the old fort, Lottie and Laurie look through their gifts. They talk about Gigante Verde and wonder if that story is true. Lottie says no. Laurie believes their uncle. Lottie pulls a large urn from her bag and gives it to Lottie. She says it’s both their gift. She took their mother’s ashes from the closet their dad buried her in. She wants to scatter them into the water and around the city like their mother wanted. Laurie is terrified. He knows that if their dad or Harriet find out, they’ll be in huge trouble. Harriet HATES any memory of their mother and will not be pleased to discover they went around town with her ashes. Lottie is mad and says their mother doesn’t deserve to be locked away in a dusty old closet. She needs to be free. Finally, Laurie relents and the pair scatter some of her ashes in the ocean by the fort before traveling into town.
As you can see, these short paragraphs are per chapter (not even per scene, though I’m know a lot of writers find success going that route, too). Point is, outlines don’t have to be scary. Go at your own pace and find how many words, sentences, or paragraphs you need per scene/chapter to get you through.
A few other tips:
- Don’t overthink it. If you can’t come up with a plot point, action, or motivation for a particular scene that’s fine. Just bold it or highlight it as a reminder to return to it once you start writing.
- Don’t get married to your outline. Things will change when you start writing. You might have a better idea for a scene or you might want to cut an entire character or chapter. Don’t be afraid to do this. An outline isn’t carved into stone. It’s likely typed into a Word doc that can be changed at any time. Your outline won’t be carved onto your tombstone, so don’t worry about sticking to it 100%.
- Keep it short, if you can. I write long and usually can’t help it. If I had my way, my outlines would be 50 pages. But that’s just not realistic. Keeping it short also helps you stay open to diverting from it when you need to. Think of it as a guide. The bones, but not the entire body.
- Don’t let your outline become a means of procrastination. As the queen of procrastination, it’s very easy to use pre-writing and outlines in particular as a way of putting off the actual work of writing a story. Your story needs to be told. Don’t get trapped in your outline.
- Have fun. Outlines should be a place to explore. Experiment with arcs and scrap them if they don’t weave through the story like you want them to. Keep tabs on when and where your characters pop up throughout and see if you can find ways to use that to your advantage.
What’s your pre-writing process like? Are you a pantser? An outliner? Some beautiful combination of both? Tell me all about your outline and pre-writing tips!
