The Narrative Monkey Bars

As I finish the rough outline of my script, I thought it wise to comment on my process, which is not unlike that of an architect. I like to write down all my random thoughts over time. Sometimes I struggle with ideas, and I go for a walk listening to music that seems appropriate for what I’m writing, in this case, spy movie scores. As the ideas come out, I write the random jumble of story events down. Normally I have a clearly structured beginning and end, but a muddled center to the story. When I feel I have enough, I print the ideas out on recipe cards.

The recipe cards are like the pieces to a puzzle that doesn’t yet have a picture. Like I said, I had the beginning and the end, so I literally laid them out on the floor and started jumbling the events, trying to find a picture. Which should happen first, and what flows best. Some of the cards never fit, and were cast aside, while other ideas needed new cards made to bridge the gaps in between.

This is what I mean by writing like an architect. I like to have my blueprints done. Does the structure work? Do the character arcs pan out or do they seem jilted and forced. You can see all this when you do a proper outline. Armed with this planned structure, I can feel free to run wild in the actual writing process, confidently knowing that I did my groundwork. It free’s me up to risk, kind-of like playing on the monkey bars knowing that the engineer built the apparatus well enough to support your weight.

I’m a big fan of this type of writing process. I know some don’t feel they are being spontaneous if they outline their stories before hand, but more often than not, the story ends up feeling made up on the spot. The character arcs don’t get fulfilled, dialogue doesn’t have a guided purpose, and pacing is muddled. This all combines to confuse the narrative. If you’re trying to say something to your audience, you need to figure out what that is before you start writing. It’s no different from opening your mouth without knowing what you plan to say. You can get away with this in daily conversation, but if you want to make a living as a writer, you can’t afford to.