This outlining thing is killing me
I'm trying an experiment: I'm changing my outlining process for a book I'm really interested in. I usually create a broad framework and fill in supporting details as necessary, then add the filigree (as it were) as I go. This allows me to keep the enthusiasm relatively high and perpetuate the joy of discovering the story, which generally serves to keep me writing. I know where I'm starting, mostly where I want to go, and a large part of how I'm getting there, but finding the little details like breadcrumbs along the way keeps me happy.
I find this works quite well for short stories, but it generally falls apart in sometimes spectacular fashion for longer works. So, now I'm doing the heavy-duty work up front. I'm trying to plan this thing to within an inch of its life. Each chapter is will be mapped out with what happens, who's involved, what details I reveal, etc. Writing the book should, from that point, become a matter of concentrating on the structure of sentences and paragraphs, the choice of words, the effect of language, etc.; you know, the technical stuff that I really obsess over. I'm a detail guy, and I have a tendency to see the dots instead of the riverbank when I get really into something.
The problem is that it's a slog. Doing the hard work up front, it turns out, means that there's hard work to do. Who knew? It's usually been this kind of draining planning that's sapped the joy out of composition. I've come to understand over the years, however, that I absolutely need it. It's how I keep from writing myself into a corner. It's how I keep from falling back on bad habits and cliches. It's how I keep producing something that moves forward instead of just spinning its wheels. It's how I avoid getting to a point where I look at the words and think, 'What the hell just happened that I've got 108 pages and I'm out of places to go?'
I hope.
I've just got to get through it. If I can get through it once, and it does actually solve my problems, then it's worth it. It's worth it to the point to of torturing myself this way repeatedly to get the words out. Honestly, it'll be less painful (and, I think, less poisonous) this way.
I hope.
I find this works quite well for short stories, but it generally falls apart in sometimes spectacular fashion for longer works. So, now I'm doing the heavy-duty work up front. I'm trying to plan this thing to within an inch of its life. Each chapter is will be mapped out with what happens, who's involved, what details I reveal, etc. Writing the book should, from that point, become a matter of concentrating on the structure of sentences and paragraphs, the choice of words, the effect of language, etc.; you know, the technical stuff that I really obsess over. I'm a detail guy, and I have a tendency to see the dots instead of the riverbank when I get really into something.
The problem is that it's a slog. Doing the hard work up front, it turns out, means that there's hard work to do. Who knew? It's usually been this kind of draining planning that's sapped the joy out of composition. I've come to understand over the years, however, that I absolutely need it. It's how I keep from writing myself into a corner. It's how I keep from falling back on bad habits and cliches. It's how I keep producing something that moves forward instead of just spinning its wheels. It's how I avoid getting to a point where I look at the words and think, 'What the hell just happened that I've got 108 pages and I'm out of places to go?'
I hope.
I've just got to get through it. If I can get through it once, and it does actually solve my problems, then it's worth it. It's worth it to the point to of torturing myself this way repeatedly to get the words out. Honestly, it'll be less painful (and, I think, less poisonous) this way.
I hope.