Perils of the Writer: The Process of Planning

I've made no secret of the fact that there is a Big, Crazy Plan to all of the Maradaine books.  I don't get too specific about it, as I don't like talking too much about books that aren't finished or contracted, if not both.  As much as I believe I am capable of accomplishing my goals (and doing it in a relatively efficient manner), I prefer not to say THIS BOOK IS COMING OUT SOON until I know that it's actually true-- or as true as it can be within my power.  This is part of why I talk about Other Things vaguely.  Because too often you can say This Is  A Thing I'm Doing and then there's an Amazon or Goodreads page for a thing that you've decided to shelve.  

But I digress, because I wanted to talk more about the process of putting together the plan-- both for individual books and long term.  I'm, as I said, a big fan of outlines for both things, and working out where things need to go to reach the place I want it to in the long term, while maintaining compelling storytelling and plot in the individual novel.  

This is a pretty personal process for me, that involves a fair amount of sitting in front of a large work area and scrawling notes by hand, which then form a skeleton of the plot.  This is largely solitary, but sometimes I need to talk something out, or hack out the bigger points and that's where Dan comes in.

If you've read the acknowledgements on any of my books, you'll see a big one always goes to Dan Fawcett, who's been my friend and sounding board for about thirty years now.  While there are plenty of people who know Maradaine and understand what my goals for it are (including my editor, the once-again nominated for Best Editor Sheila GIlbert), Dan knows it in a way no one else does.  He knows about the long-term story, about characters you all haven't even met yet, and the deep secrets being threaded throughout.  I've written out about 20K words of Long Term Plan that was essentially for his eyes only.  (My agent has seen this too, but he decided not to read it, because: spoilers.)

However, if with his help, it's still 95% me, sitting down at the table, and hashing it out.

And now: time to get to work.  

Building A Plot Fire

Interesting timing, this post topic. Last weekend I gathered with a few friends to talk about the plotting of upcoming stories. It was me, another author, and a voracious reader. There was food and adult beverages of course.

I have plotted alone too much. When there is no one to bounce the ideas off of, no one else to poke at the notion with their sticks, then my options are limited. I write on my white board, I pace, and I talk out loud. I can get it done, but the result will not shine as bright.

Interaction with other creative people is intensely satisfying to me. Its like I'm looking through a telescope, trying to see this world that is light years away. The details my eyes percieve are my version of basic. Then someone else takes a peek through that lens. Their eyes might be better or worse, and their life experience is uniquely their own, so their initial assessment is drenched with their version of basic which has little in common with my own.

Suddenly, that world comes into greater focus in my own eyes. The addition of their thoughts is, in part, a validation of my own which gives me confidence to move forward, and the other part is fuel on the idea spark I started with. Before much time has passed, there is a bright flame.


It is important (to me) at this point to keep feeding that fire. To hammer out some details, to consider the tropes, the stereotypes and the current trends, and then to take a hard look at this idea before me and identify what is 'normal' and certain to be anticipated. I follow that up by actively asking myself what emotional appeal can be found in altering the plot or characters to avoid that ground which has already been explored.

You wouldn't dig for gold in an old mine, right? You and I both know that endeavor would most likely be a complete waste of time and effort.

So it is vital to push onward, to stumble past the lines of my comfort zone and stand on new territory. Adding the influence of even a few thoughts, connected only by the words of someone whose life experience differs from mine, is an invaluable part of the process. Like a relay...I know how, when and where to run, but I'm all anticipation and no distance until I'm passed the baton.

Then...because that spark has become a blaze, my passion is burning bright for the project, and the momentum has built and is hurlting me onward...there's no stopping me.

At What Point Is Brainstorming Most Useful?

When do I solicit the ideas and/or opinions of other people for the sake of plotting? Uhm...I tend to do that after the draft is done, usually when a CP has returned it to me with notes of "Yawn" or "DUMPSTER FIRE" in the margins. At that point, the brainstorming is solving a specific problem. Too soon in the process and I'm paralyzed by the abundance of choice, the internal struggle to make it uniquely mine, plus all the fun of hatching evil plans as I write the draft is gone. I do plot, I do outline, and I do end up with a product that isn't similar to where I thought the story was going.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE brainstorming. Letting my imagination run wild with "what if" is a blast. You give me "nuclear physics" and I can get us to "were-chickens in outer-space." It's the best drinking game ever. Hell, I like so much, I'll do it sober with very little prompting.

However, when it comes to a story I'm actually going to write/am writing; that's me and my special weird having a grand old time before we expose it to anyone. Once we have, should my Dev Editor or CP make notes of "this is what I think you're trying to accomplish, this is how it reads, maybe try something like this," I'm all Gabrial Iglesias with the giggles, "Yassss, yasss!"

Every creative person has a different point in their process where brainstorming is most beneficial. There is no "right" answer just as there is no requirement that you take any of the suggestions hatched during a session. It's all about when and how you need your leeetle gray cells stimulated. (What? I know that's Poirot not Iglesias!)

I walk alone

It is nearly impossible to get me to give nay answer that goes beyond very vague when I am in the process of writing a novel. When I was younger I would have said I didn't want to jinx it, but the truth is, I just don't want feedback until after I've reached a certain point. Take off can be a tenuous thing. Too many questions tends to make me doubt myself. What if the idea isn't original enough? What if the writing is weak?

So I just don't do it.


Does that help you? Probably not. But there it is, truth in advertising.


So let's have a different twist this time around. I have a novel coming out that is different. It's a mosaic novel. Thee are ten authors total, including yours truly, Charlaine Harris, Jonathan Maberry, Kat Richardson, Mark Morris, Tim Lebbon, Christopher Golden, Seanan McGuire, Cherie Priest, and Kelley Armstrong.

Nice group, right? Well, here for our regulars at SFF7, is a giveaway.

Respond to this post.  Name your favorite pulp author, horror author, comic book writer or crime novelist and one person picked at random (who answered one of the above questions) will win an Advanced Readers Copy.

Any questions? Beuller? Beuller?

Early Stages - Who Should Help You Plot?

In keeping with our story-writing theme - last week we talked about how much space to give to the denouement - our topic at the SFF Seven this week focuses on the Early Stages of Plot Development. Do we work alone, with critique partner, developmental editor, or in a round-table group.

My answer is that this has changed dramatically for me over the course of my writing career - and it can vary by book. Plus, just recently I've done something Totally New, which isn't even on that list.

First off, for anyone who *doesn't* know this about me - though I'm not sure how that's possible since I feel like it's a big neon sign over my author-hatted head - I don't pre-plot. I'm going to make that distinction, pre-plotting vs. plotting. In some genre communities, people are given to calling writers either plotters or pantsers. A "pantser" is someone who is perceived as writing "by the seat of their pants," a description that simply oozes with pre-plotter panic to my mind. The way I write feels nothing like what it seems many imply with it - that there's somehow no plan at all.

Interestingly, there are myriad definitions for that phrase. It turns out that it's early aviation parlance. Aircraft initially had few navigation aids and flying was accomplished by means of the pilot's judgment. It meant "going aloft without instruments, radio or other such luxuries." In our analogy, I suppose the instruments, etc., would be an outline of the story. As far as the idiom is concerned, I found this definition very interesting: "To use one's judgment, initiative, and perceptions as events unfold in order to improvise a course of action without a predetermined plan."

Now, that last *does* feel like how I write. I don't feel like I can plot a book before I write it because I don't know how events will unfold. And I do trust in my writer's instincts and the skills I've honed over time to make those judgments as the story goes. Several of the definitions used the word "intuition," which I think is spot on.

I don't really think my stories through, I intuit them.

I have a critique partner (and good friend) that I talk through stories with a great deal. She's very much a thinker. She plots out the stories ahead of time and is always asking me questions like what is my heroine's goal or her internal wound. I inevitably get irritated by these questions - not that I don't know the answers, but that I can't articulate them. They are feelings to me, not easily definable in a few words. That said, this friend is great at helping me figure out my stories. I can tell her "Oh, my heroine is like this, and her mother is this way, but the hero is this other thing to her - so what would happen if...?" And she has great answers. I don't always use her ideas, but they do help to guide me.

I seem to work best that way, brainstorming what my characters might do, talking it through with one or two other people. I love to do it with other people's stories, too.

Just recently, however, I got to do something new and very fun. Last week I announced that I have signed with a new agency, Nancy Yost Literary Agency, and that I'll be working with Sarah Younger there. I couldn't announce this change immediately, as the contract with my former agency asked for 30-days notice. But, until Sarah could officially act as my agent, we discussed several projects I had in mind as possibles. She picked one as her favorite - and as the most marketable at the moment - and gave me some ideas to think about. What she gave me helped crystallize the project and injected it with life. Which is so much what I was hoping working with her would be like!

This is an aspect of working with an agent that I think some writers, especially those exclusively in self-publishing, perceive as being "told what to write." It doesn't feel like that at all. Instead it's a "wouldn't it be cool IF" scenario. Agents are passionate about books, by definition, and widely read. The right agent can bring fantastic perspective to a proposed project.

But, and this is key, whoever a writer talks to in the early stages of a story has the power to profoundly affect the direction of it. Or even to kill it with careless criticism. Choose those people with utmost care, for a new story is precious and fragile. Don't hand that baby to just anyone.

How Much Ending To Include?

When I saw this week's topic, I thought of the ending of the original "Star Wars" movie versus the ending of "Return of the Jedi." For me, the ending of "Star Wars" was too abrupt. I mean, there was the medal ceremony, the music swells and.....done. Wait. What? I wanted more closure, more conversation, more TIME with the characters. Whereas the ending of "Jedi" didn't feel as rushed to me - there was a big party going on, we got to see pretty much everyone, all was good, all was happy...I left the theater in a contented mood. (Of course at that point we had no idea there'd be sequels/prequels/sidequels/JarJar and etc.)

Of course you can overdo that final closure stuff. There used to be a romantic suspense author whose series I devoured (and I don't remember the author's name or the series any more) but every single book ended with a cookout at the home of the parents (I believe) of the first set of  main characters. Each couple from the previous books would be trotted in with their potato salad or whatever, their new babies, introduced to the woman (or guy) who'd been the heroine in the latest novel...I realize some readers love that kind of scene, catching up with all the much beloved people from the earlier books, but it got to be just too much over the top for me by about the 8th or 10th time. Nothing meaningful was happening, other than John and Jane (made up names) from book #3 or #4 getting a few lines on the page and oh gee, look they had TRIPLETS.

(Clearly she knew what the majority of her readers did want though, so kudos to her! It just wasn't my thing.)

My books usually end pretty close to when the action of the main plot is over. I try to have a scene or at least a moment where everyone takes a deep breath and it's really clear how happy the couple will be with their hardwon Happily Ever After and then we're done.

With Wreck of the Nebula Dream, my take on surviving the "Titanic in space", I did write an extended farewell scene, at a restaurant, and let Nick and Mara, the hero and heroine, say their farewells to everyone in their group who'd survived. I got some less than positive reviews for that, with a few readers and reviewers saying after the breakneck pace of the novel the ending broke the mood, Sorry! I write what I want to read and I wanted Nick to get some closure on his regret at not being able to save everyone. And then go off to his HEA with Mara.

In my latest novel, The Captive Shifter, a just released fantasy romance, Caitlyn and Kyler are getting ready to leave the witch's castle after their victory, and we see them happily heading toward the stables to make their exit. They've already had closure during the climactic finale so there's no extended scene. (I am writing a sequel though.)

In the next scifi romance novel, Danger in the Stars, which is coming in about a week, I do have an epilogue tying off the loose ends, and some characters from other books might briefly reappear (no spoilers) but it just felt right and fun to me to go there, versus ending the book any sooner.

So as you can see, yet again, I'm in no way scientific and cannot measure out for you how much denouement I include in a book. As a person who just sits down and writes the novel without a lot of planning, I do what seems to fit the needs of that story and those characters.

By the way, I just guested on Jeffe's blog last week (waves to Jeffe) and shared an exclusive excerpt from The Captive Shifter, if you want to hop over there for a sample!

Putting a Button on It

When a story you love ends, it's a tragedy. You've been through the wringer with those characters. After the danger and excitement of the climax, you're looking for a satisfying wrap up to the action something that lives up to the execution of the promise the story premise made in the very beginning. Something that cements the lessons the main character learned throughout the slings and arrows of the story.

But hey, no pressure, right?

Endings are hard. There's your hero after the climax, bruised, bloodied, often broken hearted. That may be figurative. It may be literal or metaphorical, but on some level, your MC has suffered a death at the climax. That is the point in the story wherein it becomes crystal clear that this character is no longer who he or she was when the story started. And there's no going back. The MC has to return to the ordinary world after the adventure and they have to do that bearing some useful gift. The cure for whatever plague was decimating the town. The head of the dragon eating all the sheep. A Holy Grail of some kind - even if that grail is simply a relationship worth hanging onto - the gift conveyed there is the formation of the new family, whatever form that family takes.

This is what we, as readers, want to see in a resolution, then - the MC applying what he or she has learned. If you're writing genre, that's a happy thing. The gift is a benefit to the community. If you're writing literary, the gift affects no one by the MC and may carry a bit of a curse with it. Think Cassandra in the Trojan War. Gifted with the ability to see the future, cursed so that no one would believe her. If you're writing tragedy, the denouement is the fall out associated with the MC failing to learn his or her lessons through the course of the story.

I suspect that most of our readers have been trained by TV and movies to expect short denouement. But since books aren't constrained by producers watching the dollar signs with every frame of film captured, maybe it really is incumbent upon authors to luxuriate in our endings a little bit - to give readers time and space to transition out of the world of the adventure and back into their normal world. Certainly different stories will bear different treatments. If you spend very little time in your hero's everyday world at the beginning of your story, you can probably invest little time in the resolution. If you spend pages on the heroine's normal world at the beginning of your story, immersing readers in the details, you will need a denouement of similar detail at the end to contrast the differences between the two. Set up and resolution are the frame on the action of your story. You don't want a lopsided frame, right?

So really. How long should your story resolution go? Exactly as long as it needs to be to bring your characters full circle. Unless you're a terrible human being and you mean to strand your characters mid-circle. Then your denouement needs to be even weightier in order to measure the consequences of characters who failed to complete their journey(s) or who died in mid-arc. (We're looking at you on that one, GRRM.)

Do I make it sound facile? It isn't. Just go have a look at how well I follow my own advice. O_o

Resolution and Denouement: Sticking the Landing

In my Twelve Part Outline Structure, the final part is "resolution", in which the plot elements are, you know, resolved in a satisfying way.  That usually involves some form of your heroes managing to check another mark in the win column, or at least pull off some form of tie/stalemate.*  

But then, once the day is is saved-- or at least immediate danger quelled-- there's got to be some wind down.  How much is too much, that's the question.  

My instinct is to at least have some sort of check-in with the key plot points or character threads.  If it's a story with strong POV rules (for example, in A Murder of Mages we only get POVs from Minox and Satrine), then it's a good idea to have than final reflection or check-in with those POVs.  

The big rule for me is making sure nothing is left ambiguous that shouldn't be ambiguous.  For example, if a minor character was hurt in the big finale, you should make it clear that either A. they're going to be all right or B. they aren't, and what the consequences might be.

Rowling liked to have a pattern for her denouement in the Harry Potter books-- or at least the first five-- which was essentially Dumbledore Explains It All For You.  After everything is done, one way or another Harry has a sit-down with Dumbledore in which the old wizard lays out what the heck actually happened and clarifies any plot holes there might have been.  After that, it's more or less Harry packs up and takes the train home.  

My various series don't have quite the same structure-- and in the Thorn books, Prof. Alimen doesn't quite fulfill the same role-- though in both Thorn of Dentonhill and The Alchemy of Chaos, a good portion of the denouement is centered around a Veranix/Alimen scene.  I'll confess, the denouement for The Imposters of Aventil was extremely challenging.  That book, frankly, has a lot of balls in the air, so making sure each of those balls doesn't drop on the floor before the book is done was crucial-- especially doing it in such a way that it didn't feel like I was just dragging my heels to get to the end.  That said, I won't give anything away, save this: the denouement does not maintain the pattern.  

And that's fine.  We need to mix things up to keep the work fresh.  

Speaking of, this draft won't write itself.  Off to the word mines.

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*- It depends on the type of story, but sometimes "not losing" is as much of a victory as your heroes are going to get.