At a time when many agents no longer want to be frontline editors, Ginger reads (and rereads) my drafts and is always available when I need to bounce an idea off someone. That’s what I was doing last week, when Ginger and I exchanged a series of emails. In the final line of our exchange, she wrote, “Remember, when you start the Ellie POV book, outline, outline, outline!”
A page from my outline |
I have talked (and posted) about outlining and my reluctance to do so. When I was in grad school, it wasn’t considered “artistic” (I’ve come to realize that’s a useless word) to plan what you would write. Statements like, The characters just came to me, and I felt like I was just taking dictation when I wrote this permeated academic buildings. I recall a Robert B. Parker Publisher’s Weekly interview in which he described his reaction to that train of thought: he quipped something to the effect that if his characters started telling him what to write, he’d find immediate psychological help.
Similarly, at Left Coast Crime, many moons ago, Jeffrey Deaver, in his keynote, said he had created one-hundred-page outlines for three-hundred-page books. I was stunned. Eight months, he said, to create the outline. Three months to write the book. That didn’t seem to mesh with the No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader mentality I had adopted.
Still, on the heels of finishing a novel that required me to rewrite it –– cutting out a character to simplify the plot –– Ginger’s words seemed wise. So two weeks ago, I began in earnest.
I must say I’m not going to be anywhere near Mr. Deaver’s one hundred pages, but I do have something resembling screenplay scene descriptions for twenty-odd chapters, and counting. And this has given me space to think through and re-think-through plot points and characters’ roles as I go.
Perhaps most importantly, this work –– outlining the story before I write it –– feels safe. The canvas on which I’m working is wide, and changes can be made fluidly without wasting weeks and countless pages that someone who needs to perfect one page before moving on to the next great would, will, and does waste.
In short, I am enjoying the process of envisioning and re-envisioning the novel. Hell, I might be an outliner, after all.