Tell Yourself the Story
Dispatch #1. A foundational approach to writing a story.
There are two classes of writers: Planners and Pantsers. Some writers plot out their work down to the last detail while other writers just start tapping away at keys when an idea strikes. They are like the literary equivalent of the hobo drifter, riding the rails from town to town with no real destination in mind.
In my teens, when I didn’t know anything about writing, I was firmly in the Pantser camp and I always got lost about half to two thirds of the way through, if I was lucky to get that far.
In my thirties, when I still didn’t know anything about writing, I picked up a few books and started learning a few skills. Books like Story Engineering, The Anatomy of Story, and The Elements of Fiction Writing series taught me about milestones like the Inciting Incident, 1st Plot Point, the 1st and 2nd Pinch, the Midpoint. I learned what percentage of the way through my word count I should be when I hit any given milestone.
But was I closer to finishing a piece of work? My Inner Pessimist just shouted through cupped hands from the back of the room, “Hell no!” Don’t listen to him.
To be fair, those books did help me marginally, but none of them got to the crux of my problem, and if I’m being honest with myself I went a long time without even knowing what my problem was. I assumed, like so many others, that if I knew the structure of story that I could take a good premise and just build out the milestones, but it’s never that simple. Nothing worth a damn ever is.
Trial and error (lots of trial and error) has taught me that my problem was not knowing the structure of story. I got that. My problem was more fundamental in nature, foundational.
When I was a kid I fell in love with mystery and crime novels and I wanted to write like my heroes. Back then it was the team of writers behind The Hardy Boys novels, then in adulthood it became Dennis Lehane, Michael Connelly, Raymond Chandler, and Ross MacDonald. If I read enough of their work, the knowledge would just seep into my brain and then out onto the page, but I was reading all wrong.
Reading for entertainment, as I was doing, really only shows you the first few layers of the finished story. It doesn’t show you how much behind the scenes work there is and that was my problem. Slowly, through my latest project Child of Cain, the light is slowly dawning that I need to tell myself the story before I write the story for you.
This concept is not original to me. I read it somewhere but abandoned it in favour of setting up milestones which is what I now call the “Cart Before the Horse” strategy and it does not work for me.
When you tell yourself the story, you literally do just that: sit down at the computer or with a piece of paper and tell yourself the story. You start at the beginning, or as near to the beginning as you can find, then just tell yourself what happens, but be warned: it never all comes out in one smooth shot, like toothpaste from a tube. At least, it hasn’t done so yet for me.
On Child of Cain, I spend a few hours writing the “shape” of the story as I understand it at the time, not worrying too much about details, just trying to get as much of the story as I understand it down on the page in narrative format. At this stage, I don’t even have names for some characters, just placeholders: Taxi Driver, Highway Robber, Chauffeur, Counterfeiter, Noble Mobster. I tell myself what I know in the broadest strokes possible, then review and ask questions, look for gaps. What I’ve found through this recursive process is that more of the story reveals itself and, as it does, I write down as much of as I can then go back to the beginning to review it again.
So, this is what I’ve been doing for the last four days. I’m exhausted, but it feels good. It feels like I am making real progress.
This method is clunky and repetitive, but in doing this I am building a foundational understading of Child of Cain. By telling myself the story, I understand the story so that I can craft the story, the part that you get to read and enjoy.
I think I have another couple days, maybe a week of this kind of work ahead of me. If it’s longer, then it’s longer.
How will I know when it’s time to take the notes and start laying out the milestones? When does a chef know when his sauce is ready? When all the ingredients are in the pan and the sauce hits the consistency he has in mind.
I’ll know it’s time to move to the next stage when I have enough pieces to slot into the milestones and enough left over to connect them. It will be time to move on when there are no more major gaps, when I can tell myself the story from start to finish and it makes total sense.
Kevin Coleman is Ottawa-based software Product Owner by day, passionate crime fiction writer by night. Exploring the nuances of a writer’s life on Medium and beyond.
If you enjoyed this article, consider clapping for it. Thanks for your time!
