One thing I knew for sure? I could never be a plotter or an outliner. But a pre-writer? I knew my writing lacked structure, so I gave pre-writing a whirl and believe I found my happy place. Now, don’t assume this means I became an outliner. No how, no way. Let me share the workings behind the curtain and you may become a pre-writing convert, too.

A Pre-Writer Must Accomplish Six Tasks

Pre-Writer Task #1: Write A Premise Sentence

Start by ensuring you have a complete premise so you don’t end up with giant holes near the end of your romance novel. Ask yourself right off the kicker:

• Who is the protagonist?
• What situation does the protagonist find him or herself in when the story begins?
• What is her objective?
• Who is the opponent?
• What will be the disaster that takes the character out of the norm and forces her into the unknown?
• What is the conflict?

Now, use your creativity to make a premise sentence from the above answers. Let’s say we use the epic, action-packed romance, James Cameron’s Titanic.

Beautiful, young socialite, (situation) Rose DeWitt Bukater (protagonist) travels with her fiance and family on the maiden voyage of the great ship, Titanic, to begin a new life in which she is highly unimpressed. She meets and falls in love with the extraordinarily ordinary Jack Dawson and gains a new objective. When the ship rams an iceberg and sinks (disaster) Rose must save Jack who stands chained to a pole in the boiler room (conflict) before her fiance (opponent) shoots them or they drown in the freezing water (opponent). 

Pre-Writing Task #2: Identify & Fill Plot Holes

Remember the game Twenty Questions? Grab a piece of paper and jot twenty major plot points about your story, 

• One at a time, ask yourself any questions that pop in your head about the plot points. Is every scene relevant to the story? Does a particular scene stagnate the flow, or do all scenes move the story forward? Does each scene provide vital information or are there scenes in need of a whack job? As you peruse your list of plot points and stumble, you’ve found a hole in your story and need to spend time filling it – or cut the scene.
• When you finish the above mission, write twenty more things you know about your story and go through the process again. This time, ask yourself two questions about every notation you made. 

1. For every plot point, ask yourself: What if? And, go through scenarios of what if “X” happened? 
2. Because of “X,” happening, Y & Z happen. Fill in “X” with new scenarios to promote ideas and to flesh out holes in need of filling. 

Pre-Writing Task #3: Know Your Character

1. Backstory: you will not know how your character will act and react unless you know them inside and out. Build a solid backstory and you will never have to wonder how the character will handle any situation. Backstory makes a character real and gives them motive behind their decisions.
2. Interview: Interview potential characters for a part in your book. Be thorough and cover all the bases. Make certain your character has the traits and tools needed to jump off of the page.
3. Arc: Your main character(s) must begin at Point A of their story and show real growth and change by Point B, happily ever after..

Pre-Writing Task #4: Create a Settings Folder

The setting for your romance novel is a powerful choice. Setting dictates the climate, clothing, sights, sounds, smells, habitat, vegetation, etc. Identify and research settings as you would a character in your book. Make a list of potential settings, collect photos and sketches, bookmark websites and make an informed decision.

Pre-Writing Task #5: Choose a Plot Template

My Three Favorite Go-To Templates. 

Take Off Your Pants Outline Your Books for Faster, Better Writing by Libbie Hawker.

Romance Seven Beats: a romance plot structure by Billy Mernit.

Romancing the Beat: a Beat Sheet for romance novels by Jami Gold.

Pre-Writing Task #6: Focus on Proper Scene Structure

Focus on the cycle of Scene/Sequel that repeats through the book.

Scene (Action):

• Goal: Rose searches for Jack
• Conflict: Jack stands chained to a pole, water rising.
• Outcome (Disaster): The ship takes on water and Rose’s ex-fiance fires gunshots.

Sequel (Reaction):

• Reaction: Jack helps Rose climb to a higher level of the sinking ship.
• Dilemma: They are still in danger since the ship is sinking and the water is freezing cold.
• Decision: Jack gives driftwood to Rose so she may live.

I’m giving pre-writing a shot. I love so many aspects of writing and a favorite is opening my mind to an assortment of creative venues. Writers Write!!!

Tammy Lough is an award-winning author who loves writing romance and creating unique characters who burst with personality and frequent sprinklings of humor. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Missouri Romance Writers of America, Saturday Writers, and Missouri Writers Guild where she serves as liaison. You can connect with Tammy on her website www.TammyLough.com.

The post Six Tasks for Pre-Writing Success appeared first on DIY MFA.

This doesn’t mean you have to lock yourself in a creative box. Great structure comes in many shapes and forms, and can emerge from plotters and pantsers alike! However, there are certain red flags that will crop up if your structure is less than optimal, and these are what you need to look out for — especially if you’re a first-time author.

Though I know it’s hard to appraise your work objectively, I implore you to look for these five signs that your book’s structure isn’t working, so you can fix it before readers realize the same thing. To help you identify them, I’ve included titles that I feel demonstrate these structural defects, at least to some extent; they’ll show you how even the most experienced authors can falter, and why we all need to be vigilant with our own work.

1) Your plot peaks too soon

Picture this: you’re a reader halfway through a novel. You know something big is coming, whether through foreshadowing, increasing tension, or open acknowledgement that a major event is about to occur. Then it happens — and as it turns out, the remainder of the book is more or less falling action. There’s nothing significant left to reveal to readers or change the fates of the characters; in other words, the plot has peaked far too soon.

It might sound easily avoidable, but this is a surprisingly common issue, especially among authors who don’t outline. And even for those who do outline, the compulsion to get to the “exciting part” may cause them to rush through the buildup, resulting in a climax that arrives many pages earlier than intended… and which often means filling the subsequent pages with drawn-out resolution or total fluff.

In my opinion, this is the essential structural flaw that undermines Elizabeth Gilbert’s recent novel City of Girls. (Spoilers ahead for this and all other books discussed here!) The plot follows a young woman named Vivian who gets involved in the sparkling show biz and social scenes of 1940s New York City. She’s surrounded by fascinating characters, ever-changing relationships, and potent drama, all of which makes for an excellent story.

However, about two-thirds of the way through the book, Vivian gets caught up in a scandal that forces her to leave her life of glamor behind. And while I know some readers found Vivian’s post-NYC existence interesting and narratively fulfilling, I was disappointed by the abandonment of the plot up to that point — especially once I realized nothing else was really going to happen.

If you suspect your book may suffer from this problem, think about how you might extend the buildup and/or the post-peak plot in a worthwhile manner. For example, Gone Girl has a major reveal in the middle that easily could have made the rest of the book seem lackluster! But Gillian Flynn ensures the story doesn’t end there, keeping readers hanging on with plenty of additional drama and satisfying twists.

2) You have too many threads to tie off

Another unfortunate structural issue is having too many character arcs, subplots, and other details you initially intend to be important, but which feel superfluous as you approach the end of your book. Fortunately, these threads aren’t hard to identify: if you’re wrapping up the main plot and you have more than one minor storyline still to resolve, you have too much going on.

There are two ways to handle this, structure-wise. The first is to simply remove the plot and character threads that don’t add anything substantial. For example, if you have a character who only appears a handful of times and doesn’t impact the plot, you can reduce or eliminate them entirely. (For authors with series aspirations, this may even be a blessing in disguise; a character you want to write more about, but who doesn’t have much bearing on the story you’re currently telling, could be perfect fodder for your next book.)

The second method is to try and resolve some of those minor threads earlier, so they don’t pile up and become overwhelming. This requires more thoughtful restructuring than scrapping whole subplots and characters, but it can be extremely rewarding, especially if the resolutions of those earlier threads contribute to the reader’s understanding of the “big” resolution later.

As for a concrete example of what not to do, you might look at some of Dickens’ works as having far too many threads. Of course, many would argue that this is exactly what makes Dickens great — the epic number of characters and subplots, the extreme level of detail. But, as I imagine anyone who’s read Bleak House would concede, a bit of pruning is sometimes necessary to make a book more comprehensible (and tolerable) for readers.

3) Your timeline jumps around too much

We’ve all read books with time jumps, and I won’t deny that flashbacks in particular are a great way to build narrative suspense. However, some time jumps can be more confusing than compelling, and may even cause readers to lose interest completely; this is why a jumpy timeline can be a sign that you need to restructure your book.

Continuing in my vein of controversial examples, Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut is a quintessential case of too many time jumps. To be fair, the chaotic structure of this somewhat dystopian novel does accurately reflect the story — that of a man “unstuck in time” — and over the course of reading it, I’ll admit that I came to respect Vonnegut’s unorthodox approach.

However, I’ve since realized this is a case of the exception proving the rule. Even upon rereading the book, each time jump was still quite disorienting; I only remained invested and entertained because of Vonnegut’s immense skill as a writer. Needless to say, if Kurt Vonnegut can barely get away with this kind of time-jumping, the rest of us probably shouldn’t attempt it.

That said, if you find your story’s timeline jumps around too much (especially if you, the author, have trouble keeping track!) the best thing to do is go back to square one. What did you intend to accomplish with this structure, and might the same goals be attainable through fewer time jumps — and perhaps fewer perspectives, if that’s a complicating factor as well?

If you end up re-outlining your entire book, it might help to use a writing app to keep track of different elements. This way, even if you continue to use time jumps, you’ll have a clear visual sense of your chronology. (Scrivener 3 with Label View is the one I have in mind, but any writing tool with outlining functionality should greatly improve your use of time in a narrative.)

4) Your late-stage “revelations” are unsatisfying

This is perhaps the most irksome structural flaw I’ve come across as a reader, because it’s almost impossible to identify until you’ve read the book in full. In a way, it’s the opposite of the first issue I mentioned: rather than peaking too soon, the story builds and builds, dropping tantalizing hints and drawing out every bit of tension, and then… it fails to resolve in a satisfying way.

Sometimes the “big reveal” is glaringly obvious, or it’s not much of a reveal at all. Or sometimes a late-stage twist will arise with no foreshadowing whatsoever, which has the added “bonus” of making the reader frantically flip back through the book to scan for signs that were never there.

Whatever the form, it’s incredibly frustrating to invest so much time and energy in a book, only to be cheated out of a satisfying resolution. Once again, I speak from experience; I recently picked up Tangerine by Christine Mangan, a book claiming to be “The Girl on the Train meets The Talented Mr. Ripley.” High praise!

But despite an atmospheric start, Tangerine quickly devolves into a sort of suspenseful endurance test, doling out promising information without ever doing anything interesting with it. In the end, as one reviewer put it, “everything is exactly as it seems” — what’s perhaps intended to be a twist is just a slightly clearer iteration of information that was already provided.

Of course, to pinpoint this kind of structural problem in your own book, you have to be extremely honest with yourself. Consider your ending and what you’ve done to build to it. If there’s a reveal or dramatic ending of any kind, have you hinted at it without being too obvious? If there’s not, or if it’s intentionally out of left field, might readers feel that you led them on? Any doubts should prompt you to take another look at your structure, and potentially rework it for a more satisfying outcome, whatever that might mean for your readers. Speaking of which…

5) Your readers become confused

This is an undeniable catch-all for any author worried about their book’s structure: if other readers have trouble following it — even if it’s crystal-clear to you! — you have a problem. This could be due to any number of reasons, including any or all of the issues outlined above. But whatever the culprit, if a third-party reader tells you the structure doesn’t make sense to them, you’d better trust their objective opinion.

This is why, if you’re planning to publish your book, you should seek out beta readers and other trusted commentators to provide feedback as early as possible. Hire a professional editor if you have to; just get some eyes on your book that aren’t your own.

And even if they tell you to burn everything and start over, that’s still much better than releasing a book with a structure no one can understand. Plus, the next time you write a book, you’ll know exactly what tends to go wrong with your structure… which some might say is the first step toward making sure everything goes right.

Savannah Cordova is a writer with Reedsy, a marketplace that connects authors and publishers with the world’s best editors, designers, and marketers. In her spare time, Savannah enjoys reading contemporary fiction and writing short stories.

The post #5onFri: Five Signs Your Book’s Structure Needs Work appeared first on DIY MFA.

When Eero Saarinen built the Gateway Arch in Saint Louis, he built from the ground up. In other words, he calculated extensive mathematical equations so that the arch curved just right, instead of built straight up. This was a challenge. It took time. And eventually, it created an architectural masterpiece. You can guess where I’m going with this. An outline is important before writing stories. However, there’s a catch. Outlines aren’t meant for everyone, or at least, not the same type of outlines. That’s where I come in.

Should I complete an outline before writing?

The answer is simple: Up to you. But if you want a more personal answer, I’d advise you to experiment with both. Here’s why.

• Benefits of being a plotter: a secure plan before writing prevents plot from running wild, and content for writing every day
• Consequences of being a plotter: you can trap yourself, feeling obligated to write your outline exactly, which could lead to a lack of freshness
• Benefits of being a pantser: you get to run wild with your imagination, free of any pre-designed chains
• Consequences of being a pantser: ideas can get scattered and lack cohesion, leading to an unfulfilling ending or muddled middle

As you can see, there are highs and lows for both. Let’s pull the top three exercises from James Scott Bell’s book on plot and structure, which I think do a tremendous job plantsing –a term used for people who outline, but not every single detail. Test them. Mix it up. It won’t bite; it can’t hurt!

Objective

Decide if you are a plotter, a pantser, or a mixture of both, using the outlining strategies I provide.

Discussion Questions

1. What are the benefits and consequences of outlining? Of not outlining?
2. Why should I try both ways?
3. Do I feel confident with my choice?

Resources

Write Great Fiction – Plot & Structure – James Scott Bell

Today we’re going to discuss something a little different. I’m going to pull passages from a work on the craft of writing. Mainly, because I believe writers need to read fiction and nonfiction novels in addition to books dedicated to the writing craft, and not in place of them.

The Best of Both Outlines: Three Strategies for Balancing Outlining and Non Outlining

1) The LOCK System

What is it?

“These are the elements that give you a solid foundation for your novel. If there is one weakness in your story, it will probably be revealed here.”

What are they?

L is for LEAD – “The point here is that a strong plot starts with an interesting lead character.” This does not mean your lead needs to be 100% sympathetic, but rather compelling enough to make us care about what happens to her, someone who gives us a reason to root for them.

is for OPPOSITION – “Objective is the driving force of fiction. It generates forward motion and keeps the Lead from sitting around.” Without a want or desire, there is no reason to read the story. It is the objective that gives us a reason to root for the lead, and it is your job as the author to never, ever give it to them (until the climax, of course)!

C is for CONFRONTATION – “Opposition from characters and outside forces brings your story fully to life.” Remember that thing called tension? Opposition, or putting obstacles, including other characters, in your lead’s way builds tension in the story. It’s what makes your story exciting, something they can’t put down.

K is for KNOCKOUT – “the ending must have a knockout power.” Even if some of the story is weak, a knockout ending will leave the readers satisfied, craving for more. Figure out your knockout ending, and you have something to write towards. Something emotionally exciting, to bring your lead home.

Why they work.

Deciding on the LOCK system for your novel gives you a handle on your story’s most important elements. When all else fails, when writer’s block creeps in, lean on your LOCK system. It won’t fail you. I promise.

2) Write Your Back Cover

What is it?

“This is the marketing copy that compels a reader to buy your book. This is what you see on the back of a paperback novels in a bookstore.” But more than that, back cover is a great way to test not only your grasp of the main elements (or LOCK) working in your novel, but also potential outside perspectives on your story.

Why is this important?

By testing your back cover on readers before writing you can get a feel for what makes them excited about your idea…or not. Thus, you’re getting a chance to rework any weak links in the story before spending months (or years) on something that might not work out.

How I can write a back cover?

Check out my last blog on writing back cover for tips and tricks!

3) The Three Acts (*my personal favorite*)

What are they?

In every story there are three acts, separated by two doorways of no return.

Ask yourself, what is the inciting incident that will throw your lead into the heart of the story? Harry Potter is told he is a wizard; does he go? Prim’s name is drawn at the reaping; does Katniss sit quietly or do something about it? That decision is the first doorway. That decision gives us a reason to follow your lead into the abyss.

The second decision comes after the character’s lowest moment: when they must decide after their greatest fear comes to life, if they should go on, quit, or take a new direction.

Why is this important?

By thinking in terms of three acts, you’ll establish a clear beginning, middle, and an end. In other words, you’ll have something to work towards, and someone to follow as they work towards it. James Scott Bell sees this as a way to “track your scenes”:

Act I: Sam gets the case

Act II: Sam struggles to solve the case

Act III: Sam solves the case

Once you have this set, ask yourself: do my scenes work towards this ending in a way that creates tension? Or do I stray from the lead’s ultimate goal, do I work against what I need to establish? And if I do, how can I revise it?

Final Thoughts

Plotter or pantser, it’s important to reflect on your approach to plotting and structuring novels, and once you’ve got an idea of who you are as a writer, write confidently into the morning, day, and night.The best way to figure this out is testing strategies for both approaches. Some other ideas from James Scott Bell for outliners and not outliners include:

Plotters:

• Index Card System – make scenes on index cards
• The Headlight System
• The Borg Outline (see JSB’s book for details)

Pantsers:

• Set a writing quota for yourself (hours or words/day)
• Begin your writing by re-reading
• One day a week, record your plot journey

Plotter or Pantser, I wish you the best of luck! And I can’t wait to hear what system works best for your, how you approach your writing day, and why!

What kind of writer are you? A plotter or a pantser or a plantser? Do you have a different approach to plotting? I’d love to hear about them! Join the discussion by using the hashtag #letstalkbooks

Abigail K. Perry is a commercial fiction writer living in Massachusetts where she teaches creative writing and film production. She received her B.S. in TV, Radio, and Film from Syracuse University and her Master’s in Education from Endicott College, and has worked as a creative production intern in for Overbrook Entertainment and as a marketing and sales intern for Charlesbridge Publishing.

In addition to writing, Abigail plans to teach screenwriting at An Unlikely Story (the priceless local bookstore owned by Diary of a Wimpy Kid’s Jeff Kinney) in Plainville, MA. This class is in development and will launch soon!

Abigail is a member of the DIY MFA street team and a loyal follower of Writer’s Digest. You can read more about her work on this website or follow her on Twitter @A_K_Perry 

The post To Outline or Not To Outline? appeared first on DIY MFA.

Lately, though, I’ve been asking myself another question: does it really matter?

Nothing is more frustrating to me than having a great idea you can’t execute. You just can’t get right. Maybe you’re on draft fifty of the first fifty pages. Or you’ve bogged down somewhere in the middle and can’t seem to get out of the midgemarshes. Or you’ve gotten through a full draft and won’t let anyone read it. You’re in the trenches. I’m in the trenches. It’s miserable in the trenches.

And I think I’ve found a way out.

If you’ve got a great idea–and I know you do–I don’t think you need talent. I don’t think you need voice. I don’t think you need experience. I don’t think you need characters.

I think you need a plot.

This sounds a bit crazy. Of course, a great plot does help make a book great, but it’s all about the characters, right? Wrong. Well, not wrong. It is about the characters. And the voice. And the world. And that one monologue at the end where you just kill it. It’s about the little moments that lead to the big moments. It’s about the perfect metaphor. A great book is great on many levels, and a great writer will weave all these elements–voice, character, pacing, world–together.

But none of this matters if you don’t have a plot (and you’re not Jack Kerouac).

I was a consummate pantser and have been forever converted to a plotter. Plotting your novel–even loosely–saves you heartache, angst and time. Here’s why:

1) No One Else Cares That Writing is Hard

The western cultural perception of art has drastically changed in the last few hundred years. In ancient Greece and Rome, medieval Europe and early America, artists were not considered special. Art, music and writing was a job. People went to school to study it the way people go to school to study medicine now. There were rules that had to be followed. And most artists worked for a wealthy patron, and they had to meet deadlines and write to the explicit taste of their patron.

Consider Beethoven. Brilliant. Famous. Unfortunately, going deaf. Much of what we know of him–his brooding personality, his aloofness–was part of a carefully cultivated persona intended to keep people from knowing he was going deaf in order to keep working. 

Consider Handel. A composer. The name of the game was opera, but it was Lent and you can’t perform operas during Lent. Handel still needed money. Thus, we get The Messiah.

Deflated yet? What about Hemingway? We all like to think of him drinking it up with ex-pats in Paris. We all know he did his fair share of drinking. He also did his fair share of journalism, in order to pay the bills.

One of my favorite quotes about writing comes from Stephen King. “Talent,” he said, “Is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.”

We can’t wait for inspiration, or for the elements of a story to simply come together. We have to work at it.

2) A Plot is a Necessary Evil

Don’t get me wrong — I love writing. It’s a joyful kind of work, even when it’s difficult. But it is still work. And just like you sit for a yearly review at the office, writers ought to review the way they write — and what might not be working.

I’ve been a lifelong pantser. I’ll start with a vague idea of a beginning and a vague idea of an ending, then just go. This is how I wrote my first book. I was fourteen. I considered Christopher Paolini my personal nemesis. And I would defeat him by being the youngest fantasy writer there ever was. I had an idea, and I ran with it, let the characters take me where they would. Two years later, I had a 300,000 word middle grade fantasy adventure.

Yes. You read that right. My  fantasy novel for twelve-year-olds was the length of Game of Thrones. 

And its story ends the same way — carnage. Rejection upon rejection upon humiliation that my nemesis was now on the New York Times bestseller list with a movie deal and I was sitting at home in Texas with seven hundred fifty pages of scrap paper.

The next time around, I tried an outline. I ended up with a tighter, leaner story that hit all the right points and meant nothing. I felt like I was performing CPR on it, just thumping against the paper to force it to have a heartbeat. But it didn’t. And I thought it never would. And I would never plot again. I put that manuscript, along with the first one (now cut into two books) in the drawer. 1,000 pages of proof that I was doing something wrong.

I just didn’t know what.

3) There is Another Way

I would like to try to think of some ridiculous celebrity-couple name-mashing of Plotter and Pantser, and here’s what I came up with — planter. It’s a combination of plotting and pantsing that gives a writer structure without taking the story’s heart.

Consider this, from Mr. George R.R. Martin:

“I think there are two types of writers, the architects and the gardeners. The architects plan everything ahead of time, like an architect building a house. They know how many rooms are going to be in the house, what kind of roof they’re going to have, where the wires are going to run, what kind of plumbing there’s going to be. They have the whole thing designed and blueprinted out before they even nail the first board up. The gardeners dig a hole, drop in a seed and water it. They kind of know what seed it is, they know if planted a fantasy seed or mystery seed or whatever. But as the plant comes up and they water it, they don’t know how many branches it’s going to have, they find out as it grows. And I’m much more a gardener than an architect.”

But it’s not as if the man didn’t plan at all. George RR Martin worked in films for years as a script doctor. He understands the necessity of structure. And it’s evident in his books which are almost perfectly paced, and yet never lose the heart of the story–the characters. In fact, it is only by way of his perfect plot that his characters are able to shine–and die–with such grandeur.

All you need to be a planter is an outline. Not a set-in-stone-puppies-will-die-if-you-deviate-from-it outline. Just an outline. A plan that encompasses more than “This is how the book will begin” or “this is who will die.” A plan that charts your book from beginning to end and sets it against a broader structure.

In my next article, I’m going to go over several different outlining methods, with examples from a few of the great writers. No writer is the same, but you might find something that works for you.

Bess Cozby writes epic stories in expansive worlds from her tiny apartment in New York City. By day, she’s an Editor at Tor Books, and Web Editor for DIY MFA. Her work is represented by Brooks Sherman of the Bent Agency. Tweet her at @besscozby, contact her at bess@diymfa.com, or visit her website at www.besscozby.com.

The post Plotter or Pantser? Can’t We All Just Get Along? appeared first on DIY MFA.

So, to show my tolerance for “the other half,” I’m going to pants this blog.

That being said, I can appreciate a good character. Believe me, I’ve heard voices arguing in my head, trying to convince me not to [SPOILER ALERT] kill them off.

Characters who possess you and pour themselves out through your fingertips-to-keyboard sessions are great, but speaking from experience, they have the tendency to take the plot into their own hands and scheme to devise happy endings for themselves (it should come as no surprise that I prefer tragedies to comedies).

So, how do you plot tragic endings for your favorite little imaginary friends?

1. Write the End

I know, I know. “But I don’t know the end until I get there!” Well, stitch it on a flag and wave it proudly, but don’t ever use this as an excuse not to know what goals your characters are striving toward. Meandering excuses will only lead to a series that goes on forever with no foreseeable final installment in sight (I’m looking at you, George R.R.).

Write the end. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t even have to be your real ending. Just get something down.

Now your characters have something to strive toward. They have to get from Point A to Point B. Let’s say they have to get across a wide, deep canyon in the end.

How do they get there? Let your characters decide. Each one is going to approach the obstacles differently. One might jump off the cliff, risk the rocks, and swim to the other side. Others might craft a crude bridge, or argue about how it should be built. Still others might bribe an Eagle to carry them across (eh hem . . . Tolkien).

Once you write to the end, you might find that your ending will change from what you’ve originally written. That’s okay. But at least now you will have a satisfying conclusion that your characters still helped to bring about.

2. Write the Story in Your Head First

This is the only time in your life someone might be giving you the chance—nay, the command—to daydream.

So, your Main Character is running around kickin’ @$$ and takin’ names? Let them. Just not in your novel.

This might involve some free writing. Let your mind wander and let your characters do how they do. They can go wild with this silly notion that they have wills of their own. As they wander, you might notice they stumble upon roadblocks, unsavory people, traps, and, you know, things they believe in enough to fight for.

Don’t freak out. This is called plot.

Use this to create strings of scenes for your novel. Your main character has helped you figure out what will happen; now put it together into a cohesive series of events and voila! You have just tricked yourself into creating a plot.

3. Don’t Plot at All

After all, you’re not ashamed of who you are. Go crazy. Pants that first draft. I’ll wait.

Done? Awesome. Now revise it.

This is tough to do, because it requires a fine, honest eye for weak spots in your work and the ability to so colloquially “kill your darlings.” You will need to trim those characters. Make them shape up. Give them a purpose and obstacles to overcome. Rewrite the beast.

Don’t worry, all ye plotters out there. My next column two weeks from now will be about how to let your story happen more organically instead of being an index-card control freak like me.

Are you a pantser or a plotter? How do you keep a hard rein on your characters so they don’t run away and have adventures without permission? I want to know!

Got a question? Tweet me @beccaquibbles with the hashtag #askbecca, email me at becca [at] DIYMFA [dot] com, or just leave a comment below! You could see your question answered right here!

———————————————–

With a B.A. in B.S. (translation: English Major), Rebecca Ann Jordan is a speculative fiction author in San Diego. She has published short pieces in Fiction Vortex, Yemassee Magazine, Bravura Literary Journal, and more, and currently acts as Junior Assistant Editor at Bartleby Snopes. Her fetishes include controversial grammar, mythological happenings and yarn-swapping.

The post Ask Becca: Three Ways Plotting Can Get Your Characters under Control appeared first on DIY MFA.