Contents
1. Pantser, Meet Plotter and Say Hello to Tweener
Pam Pantser loves writing so much she'd do it even if she never got published or paid. Even if she never landed a contract or sold anything online. For her it's about the writing itselfgetting up each day and going wherever her imagination leads.
Of course, she'd actually like a little income from her writing. Who wouldn't? She once tried to outline a novel. It almost killed her. Her wild writer's mind kept fighting her, telling her she was actually hurting all that was good and lovely and true in her writing. She pressed on with the outline, but it was like shampooing a porcupine.
Then she read an article where some author said all outlining is bovine droppings (he used a different word) and anybody who tells you to use an outline is a fraud. This warmed Pam's heart so much she ditched her outline and entered NaNoWriMo with only a wing and a prayer. One month later she had what she called a "novel." But when she looked at it in January she couldn't make out what kind of novel it was. She showed it to one of her best friends in the world, Cathy Critique. Cathy actually took Pam to lunch and insisted on paying. Because she had to tell Pam that, while there were some beautiful paragraphs and lines, the story was dull, unfocused, meandering and, to put it bluntly, "a mess."
"I know that!" Pam said. "But I'm a pantser! What am I supposed to do? I can't outline to save my life! Am I doomed?"
Cathy, even though insisting Pam have an entire chocolate souffl for herself, had no answer for Pam.
But I do.
Paul Plotter could build you a bridge across a gorge. His mind is a steel trap, a Rubik's Cube, a filled-out crossword puzzle. He can map out a story like Lewis and Clark charting the Louisiana Purchase. His outlines have a perfect three acts, The Hero's Journey in all its glory, and hit every mark on the Blake Snyder Beat Sheet. He has self-published nine thrillers, all of them getting reviews like, "Pretty darn good" and "Nicely paced."
But none of his novels have taken off. He can't figure out why.
He has tried to emulate James Patterson. He heard once that Patterson works (or at least used to work) from outlines that are sometimes eighty pages long.
Paul's outlines are works of art, and if there was a market for outlines he's pretty sure he could make a living as a writer.
And you should see his character backgrounds! The man writes page after page of backstory for his main characters, and even fills out questionnaires on his minor ones. In fact, Paul likes to carry around a fat binder full of all his pages of outlining, character work, and research. He likes it when people at Starbucks ask him what's in the binder. He can talk for hours on the benefits of outlining.
But somewhere between complete outline and finished novel, something doesn't jell. For some reason, Paul's perfectly plotted stories don't catch fire.
He's read a million words of craft advice, taken classes live and online. He knows his stuff, but doesn't know how to take it to the next level.
I'm going to help Paul.
Tammy Tweener falls somewhere in the middle of Pam and Paul. She knows them both, and sometimes has coffee with them. Separately, of course. Pam rubs Paul the wrong way, and Paul thinks Pam is a little too "precious." But Tammy is a free spirit who can get along with both, because she mostly listens, smiles, and nods.
She sometimes laughs at Pam's idealism and Paul's cocksureness.
She herself has taken a page from each. She outlines a little. She has key story beats she knows she must hit. But she also likes to keep things loose in between, to "let the story breathe."
If you talk to her alone, she might tell you she has days she feels the exhilaration of Pam, and other days when she feels in total control, like Paul.
But she has a problem with her finished novels, too. She has this dull, aching, indefinable feeling that there's a deeper story in there somewhere. But for the life of her she can't figure out where to look to find it.
I will show her where to look.
I have been studying, practicing and teaching the craft of writing for over twenty years. I've written several books for Writer's Digest Books, dozens of articles for Writer's Digest magazine, blogged, and held seminars and workshops all over. In all that time I believe this may be the single most powerful writing strategy I have ever developed. Because it works at any stage of your writing, whether you are a plotter, a pantser or a tweener.
Sometimes you'll hear writers say they like to start at the beginning and just see where things lead.
Others say they like to know the end, and then have the "fun" of writing to get there.
Either approach is fine, but what I'm suggesting in this book is even better, more powerful, and will be immensely pleasing to you as an author.
I am going to suggest is that you write from the middle and work outward from there.
What? The middle?
That's right. The dead center. Because that's where you're going to discover what your story is really all about.
It's also going to deepen your novel and clarify it in a way that will amaze you andmore importantlyyour readers.
So, you like pantsing? Have at it! And know that at any time you can head to the middle and find a clarity of purpose that will send your spontaneous soul soaring.
Outliner? The middle is where your true "superstructure" is going to be found. Don't ever try to complete an outline without it again.
Big claims, but I'm prepared to back them up in this book.
But first, let me tell you how I came up with this Write From the Middle Method.
2. Beginning, End or Middle?
A few years ago, after nearly two decades of craft study and teaching, I decided to give some concentrated thought to what writing teachers call the "midpoint." I'd read about it in craft books and blogs, but never found the discussions particularly useful. Everyone identified midpoint as a scene of some kind, after which something changes. But what? And why?
To me, Act II is all about rising action, the battle with death stakes (see the next chapter) and I figured you should write about this rising action all the way to Act III.
Structurally, that's true. But I still wanted to know if there was something everyone, including me, might be missing with the midpoint idea.
So I decided to take a few favorite movies and slide the timer on the DVD player to the exact middle.
Then I chose some favorite novels and opened up to the middles of their page counts.
I snooped around in those spots, never veering very far to the right or the left.
And what I found there literally knocked my socks off. Yes, I actually had to go around my house picking up my own socks, so amazing was this discovery.
What I found was that this midpoint was not a scene at all.
It is a moment within a scene.
Not only that. The midpoint moment (which I fully explain in Chapter 5) is the moment that tells us what the novel or movie is really all about.
You see, the character is going to have to face a death of some kind in the story. There are three kinds of death and one or more will confront the character, in bold relief, right smack dab in the middle of your novel.
Let me explain this death thing a little further in the next chapter. Then I need to give you some basics of structure (Chapter 4) in order to set up the discussion of the midpoint (Chapter 5).
3. Make Sure the Stakes Are Life and Death
A great novel is the record of how a character fights with death.
That's right, death. Somebody has to be in danger of dying, and that someone is the Lead character.
Now, before you category romance authors start throwing bookmarks at me, note: There are three kinds of death: physical, professional, psychological. One or more of these must be present in your novel if it's going to work at the optimum level.