By Vicki Delany
I hate plotting. But I do it.
I used to be a ‘pantser’: a writer who doesn’t know where
the story is going. Writes by the seat of her pants.
This is different from a plotter: a writer who prepares a detailed
outline ahead of time and thus knows where the book is going.
I’m not a total plotter. I usually write a good section of
the book before I start plotting. I like to get the characters in my head, and
an idea of what the story is going to be about. The only way I do that is by
writing it. But then, when I’m maybe 10,000 words in, it’s time to start figuring
the rest of it out.
Today was plotting day for Sherlock #6. I’ve started the story.
I wrote the inciting incident. I’ve introduced (to myself as much as to anyone else)
the guest characters. The murder in this book comes quite close to the
beginning, so I know who died and how and what led up to it. I also know who
dunit and why they dunit. Now, it’s time to get an outline for the remaining
70,000 or so words down on paper.
And I hate it.
So, why then do I do it you ask? I changed from a pantser to
a plotter when I was signed by publishing houses that required an outline
before giving a contract. I wrote the outline reluctantly and then found that
it helped me write the book an enormous amount. Get the hard part out of the
way, I found, and the rest is easy(er).
For a case in point, see Barbara’s recent post on shitty
first drafts and the mushy middle (https://typem4murder.blogspot.com/2019/01/ahah-moments.html)
One of my publishers doesn’t strictly require an outline,
but I send it to them anyway. If there is anything they don’t like, I’d rather
know about it now than when I’ve fished the book and incorporated that sticky
point into the final product. As an example the outline for Body
on Baker Street had Gemma and Jayne breaking into the police station in
search of clues. UH, no, said my editor, that’s going too far.
So instead Gemma is thinking
about breaking into the police station, when Detective Ryan guesses what
she’s up to and puts a stop to it. She
manages to find out what she needs to know another (less illegal) way.
Today I plotted. That
involved a lot of pacing around the house. It helps that it’s -13 degrees today,
without wind-chill, so I wasn’t temped to venture outside except to get more
firewood from the garage. I paced, I thought, I cursed. I made notes. I tried
to turn those notes into sentences.
By 2:00 I had a fairly good idea of what I want to do. I still have a lot of ???? in the outline,
but I’ll ponder those for the rest of the day and then try to finish the
outline tomorrow.
It won’t be perfect, and things can change. But I’ll have a
good solid road map that I can follow, and hopefully, not get bogged down in
the soggy middle.