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Between Panster and Plotter: Finding a Middle Ground

look downstairs into stairwell whirlWhen it comes to writing, I’m a “pantster,” as they say; I spit out drafts of a story in one forward motion, without looking back.

That’s the kind of writer I started out as, anyway.

The first essay I wrote (and submitted…poor editors) was a cathartic experience, in which I hardly glanced back even to edit. And, the novel I’m working on right now poured onto my computer screen during a frenzied dash to win a NaNoWriMo banner in 2009. Or, was it 2008? It’s a little murky now, sort of like that first draft.

But lately, I’ve been reading James Scott Bell’s book on plot and structure, and I’m discovering a middle ground between writing a first draft with one eye open and pre-planning a story scene by scene. Bell’s book gives writers a look at the basics of plot and story structure, using a set of principles he calls “the LOCK system.: Lead, Objective, Confrontation, and Knockout.

“That novel,” as I affectionately call it, still needs a lot of work, so I picked up this book with the aim of applying it to my draft — to see what I was missing, figure out what might be holding me back. What I’m discovering is that, even though I haven’t finished Bell’s book, understanding the LOCK system is changing the way I see this WIP (in a good way) and giving me new insight on how I approach all of my fiction.

Seeing how my novel incorporates the four LOCK principles, I’m more confident that the plot can work. More interesting, though, is the new perspective I have on an upcoming short story deadline. I was invited to join a group of writers and contribute a 10,000 word story to an anthology, and now there’s more than a self-imposed deadline looming on my calendar. This short story will stretch my skills as a writer, I’m sure, and I love a challenge (she says, knees shaking). If this were pre-Bell days, I would sit down with a main character and a first line and go with them, face my fears and see what happens. This time, though, I’m brainstorming more before I write, thinking through the lead and his objective, considering confrontations and a possible Knockout ending.

Whether or not pre-planning will change the outcome of the story, I don’t know. And, I’m not giving up on writing by the seat of my pants completely. There’s something about this simple planning, though, that gives me a teeny bit of confidence as I approach this story. And, maybe…just maybe…all the “thinking time” (as Roz Morris calls it in her excellent book, Nail Your Novel) will mean less time at my computer.

Since finding time to sit and write at my laptop seems almost impossible these days, I’ll take the “writing” however it comes.

Has your approach to crafting your stories changed lately?

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Keep It Light: Stories that Surprise You

On a quiet morning last summer, I ran my fingers along the row of books on a shelf in our living room. I stopped at one heavy-weight: The Norton Anthology of Short Fiction, 2nd edition. The table of contents listed over fourteen hundred pages worth of stories by must-read authors: James Baldwin, Ernest Hemingway, Flannery O’Connor.

With pages as thin as a hymnal, the words inside demanded reverent attention, just the same.

So, I was surprised to find “A Giant Step for Mankind,” by Woody Allen, first on the docket. Not that Allen isn’t a great writer, but I hadn’t considered placing him in the same circles with Hemingway or O’Connor.  I also hadn’t considered just how much I would learn from the story, about character description and the effect of a skillful narrative.

Sounds serious, right?

But, Allen’s story is about three scientists who almost discover the secret behind the Heimlich Maneuver. I laughed out loud the first time I read it, with its high register language describing the research done around “dinner-table choking.” I’m still laughing. At passages like these:

This one, describing a character —

Met my two colleagues today for the first time and found them both enchanting, although Wolfsheim is not at all as I had imagined. . . His beard is of a medium length but seems to grow with the irrational abandon of crabgrass. Add to this thick, bushy brows and beady eyes the size of microbes, which dart about suspiciously behind spectacles the thickness of bulletproof glass. And then there are the twitches. The man has accumulated a repertoire of facial tics and blinks that demand nothing less than a complete musical score by Stravinsky.

And this —

Today was a productive one for Shulamith and me. Working around the clock, we induced strangulation in a mouse. This was accomplished by coaxing the rodent to ingest healthy portions of Gouda cheese and then making it laugh. Predictably, the food went down the wrong pipe, and choking occurred. Grasping the mouse firmly by the tail, I snapped it like a small whip, and the morsel of cheese came loose. Shulamith and I made voluminous notes on the experiment. If we can transfer the tail-snap procedure to humans, we may have something. Too early to tell.

Taking these quotes out of context doesn’t give the story the spotlight it deserves. Bound alongside “The Metamorphosis” and “Hills Like White Elephants,” “A Giant Step for Mankind” reminds me that writing should vacillate between serious and fun. Because, as a reader, I want a good belly laugh as much as I want a story that brings me to tears; it’s a bonus if the story does both.

Have you read “A Giant Step for Mankind?” What’s hiding between the covers of a book on your shelf?


* This post has been edited from its original version, published in September 2009

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Boxing, Writing, and Mrs. Quinn

This is how I feel right now...

I took a boxing class once, learned the art of the jab, the uppercut, the hook. I even sparred with a guy, but he just played nice. He knew I didn’t pack much of a punch.

If he’d really fought me, though, knocked me out even, would I have gotten back in the ring to face him again?

Maybe. If I really loved boxing. But, I’m too much of a softy, and I’m a definite people-pleaser. Even if I did get him with my mean, left hook, I’d have been apologizing profusely in between subsequent ducks.

How does this relate to writing? A couple of Wednesdays ago, I let the day slip by — without saying a word. I’d planned on writing a flash fiction piece, taking on Wordsmith.org’s word of the day, whipping out a story from scratch to post here by midnight. I had an intro, had an idea, and spent the entire day (and then some) wrestling with the story, circling the first paragraph, looking for an opening.

But that story tossed me around like a rag doll and knocked me flat, so at 1am I called it.

It would be easy to take a little failure and turn it into a big sign, to throw that story to the curb and maybe even abandon word prompts all together. But, I love word prompts, and I love flash fiction (and, honestly, that story isn’t dead, it just isn’t finished).

So, I’m getting back in the ring.

Today’s word on Wordsmith.org:

stupefy. verb tr.: 1. To make someone so bored or tired as unable to think clearly. 2. To amaze.

PS. I spent all day on this story, and now I can barely see how it goes back to the word of the day. But, hey…it’s a story.

*****

Mrs. Quinn

Nicki fell in love with Mrs. Quinn on that first day of eighth grade Algebra. It was the way she wrote her name on the board that caught Nicki’s eye. Mrs. Quinn stood at attention – in her tight bun, stiff shirt, and a long skirt that hung just over the tops of her shoes – and let her hand draw out her name in a smooth series of hills and valleys and curliques.

Mrs. Quinn.

Even her algebraic expressions, with all those X’s and Y’s, showed flair. Never mind the way her skirt shimmied back and forth, to the rhythm of a song, Nicki was sure, during an intense moment of factoring.

But, she especially loved Mrs. Quinn because of the way she handled Jenny Baker, when she caught Jenny on exam day with a cheat sheet stuffed up the sleeve of her Abercrombie and Fitch hoodie. Mrs. Quinn drew a big, fat zero on Jenny’s paper and said “Aber and Fitch, as you call it Ms. Baker, has no place in Algebra, and cheating on a test gets you a visit to Mr. Harper’s office.”

“Mrs. Quinn,” Jenny held out her hands. “I’ll miss the football game if I fail this test! I’m head cheerleader!”

Mrs. Quinn ignored Jenny’s boo-hooing and showed her the door.

“Jenny’s pissed,” Nicki’s best friend Amy told her later in Study Hall. “She said she’s gonna have her mom call a lawyer.”

“For missing the game?” Nicki asked. “Serves her right.”

Nicki tried to push her hair back out of her face, but her Cerebral Palsy got in the way. Her hand circled in front of her forehead a few times, but it kept missing the hair. Nicki was tired after working through her Algebra homework and writing out her English assignment; her Cerebral Palsy never cooperated when she was tired.

“I got it,” Amy said. She tucked the hair behind Nicki’s ear and shook her head as she went on about Mrs. Quinn. “She’s cold-hearted, Nicki. I mean, it’s like she’s got no love. It’s Homecoming!”

Nicki didn’t feel one bit bad for Jenny, though, and she knew Amy was wrong. About the love part.

Nicki thought about how Mrs. Quinn looked her straight in the eye when she handed back her papers. She left pretty cursive notes on them that said “Great job!” and “You’re a natural with numbers!” and never wrote something stupid like “practice your penmanship.” She spelled out weekly homework assignments on the board like they were poems, rolling the letters together in delicious combinations and always ending the stream of instructions with a loose and curvy line underneath.

Mrs. Quinn loved math and she loved writing notes on the board and – according to Jenny – she loved Mr. Harper. Amy told her that Jenny said she saw Mrs. Quinn making out with Mr. Harper after school one day. Even though Jenny was a liar, Nicki imagined Mrs. Quinn writing him notes.

Filling the page with pretty letters.

Nicki wondered if Mrs. Quinn would sign them, “With love, Bethany.” If she would round off her Y with a flower or a heart or tease him with one of her smooth, curvy lines underneath.

* photo credit: jnyemb on Flickr