Thanks to The Chick Lit Cookbook author Alicia de los Reyes for guest blogging today on planning your writing. You can also read my 4 star review for the book – enjoy!
Many writers don’t plan. They put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard and fly, writing what comes to mind and seeing where it takes them. Some call these people “pantsers”—as in, they fly by the seat of their pants. They believe the magic comes from absolute freedom for your fingertips.
I have never been a pantser. At least, not professionally. I have dozens of notebooks filled with randomly inspired writing that I wrote without thinking: There was a spark on the subway, and I simply had to put pen to paper. I couldn’t sleep, so I sat on the couch and wrote in my diary. Those pages are meaningful and important to me, personally, but they do not reflect my abilities as a writer. I don’t try hard to make them well-written, clear, plot-filled essays or poems or stories.
But when I’m writing something for an audience, I (almost) always make an outline. Especially for long pieces—that’s anything over a page or two, for me—an outline is essential. Not only does it make my story make sense, it propels my writing forward. Without an outline, I wouldn’t have completed The Chick Lit Cookbook.
My outlines aren’t beautiful. When I have an idea for a short story or a book, I make myself sit down, take out a piece of paper, and list the plot in bullet-point form. These bullet points aren’t beautiful. They aren’t even very detailed. For example, I might write “Main Character visits New Hampshire for first time. Meets man.” I don’t know how or where exactly she meets him. I only know that they have to meet, and it has to be in New Hampshire.
This is because, although I’m not a pantser, I believe in the power of the writing process. After I make an outline, I let it sit overnight, and I try to start writing the next day. I look at the first bullet point of my outline and build a scene around that. In this case, I might make the character go to a farmers’ market and spot a cute cheese seller. I’m just making stuff up here—I can always change him to a fellow shopper, or a beet farmer, or whatever I like. The point is, the outline has gotten me writing, and now I have something to work with.
For me, the magic happens somewhere between the bullet point and the prose. Having the bones of a story frees me up to focus on details: the cheese seller’s faded cargo pants, the main characters perfectly primped hair, the way he raises his eyebrows when she dabs at her eye shadow. I let the scene go where it will; I know where it starts, and where it has to end up. Really, that’s all that matters.
Whether you’re a pantser or a planner like me, try outlining your next work. Your outline can be as simple as a stripped-down plot point list, like mine, or as complex as J.K. Rowling’s multi-page, multi-book masterpiece. Either way, you’ll find it a lifesaver when you get stuck. Whenever I can’t think of what to write next, I look at the next bullet point in my outline. It tells me what to do—in a good way.
