My
Imaginary Outline and Me
By
Krista Heiser
©2003, Krista Heiser
f
you would have asked me a few months ago whether or not I use an outline when
writing, I would have had a quick and easy answer:
No way. In
retrospect, I realize this response was somewhat misleading, which is why I've
decided to revise my answer.
I
do use an outline, just not in the traditional sense.
The
word outline brings with it many connotations.
First and foremost, I think of paper and pencil.
Roman numerals. Capital
letters. Lowercase letters. Numbers. To me an outline implies a structure you're
obligated to follow.
These
associations were formed through years (and years) of schooling where even small
2-3 page writing assignments had to be broken down into an outline.
The requisite roman numerals, capital and lowercase letters, and brief
phrases determined the structure of every writing assignment.
Even without reading the paper, you could have summarized it simply by
scanning the outline.
So
when asked about outlining in relation to my fiction writing, I would suppress a
shudder and deny the need. I
considered myself an organic writer and thought of outlines as unnecessary and
confining.
Little
did I realize I was lying to myself.
I
do use an outline. And while it may
break conventional rules by not being written out in some tangible form,
it is still an outline. It's my
imaginary outline.
Here's
how it works:
Novels
are plotted, characters are created, and scenes are developed well before I ever
put finger to keyboard. I know the
beginning and the end. I can even
begin writing at this developmental stage, although I'll admit there are times
when the middle remains vague until I'm well into the story.
Do
I write out any of these ideas? Nope.
Not a one.
Days
or weeks can pass as the idea ferments, takes on flavor, and then matures into
something substantial. Those parts that survive the chaos of my mind tend to
emerge as cohesive stories. Perhaps
the secret resides in keeping the ending firmly in mind and making sure my
central conflict never falls far from center-stage.
Whatever the case, this method has worked for me.
So
why then did I purposely join a class at Forward Motion in hopes of learning how
to outline fiction? Because I knew
it worked for other writers and I wanted to find out if I had denied myself a
critical tool for improving my writing skills.
I'll
admit the first time I had to provide an outline -- approximately 30 scenes for
the novel I planned to write -- I nearly pulled my hair out.
However, knowing how terrible I would look if I were bald, I resisted the
urge and persevered. I muddled my
way through the outline until I had something workable.
In
all honesty, it took far more effort to define the outline on paper than it did
to store it haphazardly in my mental filing cabinets.
The reason, I believe, is simple. While
the outline in my mind was workable, it was patchy at best.
Writing the scenes down really forced me to weigh the impact and
significance they would have on the story.
What
kind of consequences did this have on my writing?
At first, I felt trapped—kind of like when you're on the interstate and
the next exit isn't for fifty miles and the kids are in the backseat yelling
they have to go. Now.
Once I had struggled past this initial panic, I began to feel a sense of
confidence. The rest area may not have been in sight but I could gauge my
progress simply by glancing at the roadmap and watching the little towns pass
one by one.
So
what happens when the writing wants to deviate from the straight and narrow
interstate? I've discovered it's all right to take a shortcut, or even
the scenic route. Some of the best
road trips I've taken over the years are those where we've gotten off the
interstate and seen a bit of the country. In
writing, as long as the story's central conflict remains firmly in mind, taking
the unplanned exit ramp can be surprisingly rewarding.
This is how I learned outlines are not the enemy. They are not counter-intuitive to the creative process. They are simply a roadmap, a means to gauge your progress and to help you plan ahead. Use them or not. No one but you will ever know how far you strayed from the interstate.