Plotting A Novel—Loosely, with an Open Mind

by Melissa Corliss DeLorenzo

Photo: Sanja Gjenero

The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air.  All I must do is find it, and copy it.—Jules Renard

I’ve spoken of plotting here before. Or rather, about not plotting. My ideas were, in essence, contrary to the idea of plotting a novel, but rather trusting the story. I still believe in that wholeheartedly. I’m still resistant to over-planning. I think a lot can be gained from spontaneity and an open mind.

That being said, I’ve had a slight change of heart. To my surprise, I’ve had some unexpected success recently with plotting.

It began with a return to an incomplete manuscript. I’ve got a real pile of cold spaghetti on my hands: a partly written manuscript accompanied by lots of little notes, half-baked outlines, plot synopsis (so far), old ideas, new ideas, input from a couple of readers. There were parts I wanted to change, characters I wanted to alter and, for the most part, the story was meandering around without much direction. I decided it would be simply easier and more productive to pretty much go back and organize it from scratch, which sounds a little discouraging, but turned out to be fun. Exhilarating, too, because the process helped me see the novel as a whole.

Here’s what I did.

To start, I did nothing but think. I spent some time allowing the book and the characters to shift, blend, separate in the space of my mind. How did it collect and organize? I observed how it gathered together. I thought in terms of maps, charts, building plans, garden layouts, family trees. Until I was able to identify the strongest ideas, themes, characters and character traits.

Then, I took a pad of paper and on the top I wrote what needs to be written? I free-wrote for a while—I didn’t over-think it, simply jotted down what came to mind. Then I organized the items—chose an order. I was able to better identify the conflict.

And this is my take on “conflict”: it does not have to be grand or sweeping. It doesn’t have to be something no one has ever heard of before. In fact, I would argue it is more compelling to write about ordinary happenings. Shed light on the small and regular things.

I built. I observed the pace. I deciphered, for the most part, my beginning, middle and end, but loosely. These are the pegs around which to build. I filled in some sub-plots, but also allowed some space for others to develop on their own.

The result of my efforts: a loose outline infused with the knowledge and understanding that I will be reorganizing, cutting and adding to as I move along. As the novel is a work-in-progress, so is the plot. My end is not clear, but I’m not concerned. As I go along, I trust that it will all come together.

This may seem like a lot of busywork, but the effort can provide you an overview of the shape of your novel. You will see the themes emerging. It will prevent you from losing your way or writing yourself into corners. The trick is finding the equilibrium between rigidity and flexibility. Try not to get overly specific—leave some room for creative bursts and spontaneity. Don’t forget to diverge from your outline whenever you want to. It’s all about balance and creativity.

What are some of your plotting tricks?

Related posts: