Outlining Through the Block

So you’re working on your first or fifth or fiftieth novel. It’s going great, you love it, you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever written. You’re zooming along like a Porsche on the Autobahn. Exhilaration pounds through you with every keystroke, making your tongue go dry and your fingers turn sticky with sweat. Words are thrill and you live for them.

And then you hit a brick wall at top speed. Your rhythm is completely broken, you have no idea what happens next in the book, and you are desperate.

Nearly all writers encounter this at some point. For some, it’s at the beginning, and they have a horrendous time actually starting the book. For others, it’s the end, and others the middle. Different writers have different problems, and those problems may change depending on the book. I’ve written books that I had no problems starting but had trouble with the ending, and others that felt like dragging my feet all the way through the beginning.

What do you do when every word feels like you’re cutting a hole in your belly with a dull knife and yanking out your own guts? Sometimes just gritting your teeth and kicking yourself through it works. I finished a stalled novelette this way once. Other times, it doesn’t. In 2002, I tried that method with two novels, the last in a trilogy still in progress, and my NaNoWriMo project. Both stalled, and trying to push through the block only left me feeling miserable and depressed.

At the same time I was working on these two projects, I was also working more slowly on my auditor’s project for Holly Lisle’s Writing the Breakout Novel course, Stronger than the Night. Earlier in the course, outlining had been part of the assignment. I’d previously flat-out refused to even try an outline before, because I believed it would stifle my creativity and spontaneity. For the course, I opened my mind, determined to try something new, no matter how alien and difficult it was.

Outlining surprised me. It didn’t have that greatly feared effect. Rather, outlining all the scenes and mapping out the book made it easier to start. Because I’d already jotted down the scenes, I knew what would happen. I just had to write it.

Having my book planned and outlined didn’t detract from the fun of actually writing. It’s like the difference between a rough sketch and a finished artwork. You miss all the detail and texturing in the outline. You don’t get the characters in action, their witty lines, or the adrenaline surge as you’re writing climactic scenes.

While some of the thrill of writing comes from wondering what happens next, like turning the page of a good book, there’s an advantage to outlining. In her article, How to Finish a Novel, Holly Lisle describes “candybar scenes”–scenes that you just can’t wait to write. With outlining, I managed to make every scene in Stronger a candybar scene. I didn’t have to worry about deciding what’d come next. I breezed through what would otherwise have been a nerve-wracking climb up treacherous mountains while rocks rolled down into my path.

Had I written Stronger without an outline, I would almost certainly have hit the same block towards the middle that I did with both Vengeance and Smoking Mirror. Because I already knew what was going to happen, I just had to buckle down and write it, without worrying about the next scene. I could focus entirely on the scene at hand. Stronger was an easier book to write than any of my previous novels, even though we were warned at the beginning of WtBN course that our projects would be harder than anything we’d written before. My project dealt with darker themes than my other books, and is much more intense. It was easier to write because of the new methods I used.

In my previous books, I grasped at straws trying to think of what would happen next once I hit the middle, and grabbed the first thing I could think of. This means that I have one structurally unsound novel that needs a complete replot from the ground up, because I wrote the entire novel that way. It’s easier to make structural changes to the plot when you’re outlining than it is after the book is finished.

Okay. But what if you’ve already started the book? What if you’re in the middle, or elsewhere, and have already hit that block? Then my advice is pretty much useless to you, right?

Wrong. You can still outline. Sometimes starting from the beginning and outlining what you’re already written to where you are can help break that block, because you’re now looking at the novel from a distance rather than up close and in it. When I outline before I start a book, it usually takes me about a week to finish the outline, so give yourself some slack. Don’t expect to have it written and finished right that day. You need time to ruminate over plot ideas. That is an important part of the writing process, even though it isn’t commonly acknowledged.

And what if that doesn’t work? What if you still can’t get through the block, even starting through the beginning? Don’t give up on outlining. Try filling in and organizing scenes you already have planned. If you’re stuck in the middle and have this brilliant climactic ending planned, then you basically need to figure out how to get from where you are to the end. You might notice clusters of scenes disjointed from each other. Having them outlined and organized on screen–or paper, if you work better that way–in front of you might be enough to click in the missing scene/s to make everything fall in place.

Not everything works for everyone. People are all different, with varying strengths, weaknesses, and idiosyncrasies. Outlining may not be your solution. But when you’re that blocked, about anything is worth a try. It’s not a bad idea to try outlining as prevention. If it doesn’t work, you’re at the very least no worse off than you already are. If it does–then you’re back on the road, laughing as the wind blows in your face and your fingers fly across the keyboard.

Originally published in Holly Lisle’s VISION, Issue #18