Eἰρήνη

When I first started writing at 13, I was a pantser. I’d develop an initial concept for a story, then just write – making everything up as I went.

Within a year or so, I became a plotter. I wrote extensive character sheets, deeply developed the worlds of my stories, and wrote detailed outlines that spanned not just the current novel, but series-long arcs.

In the years that followed (high school, college, MFA), I oscillated between the two approaches, navigating the benefits and challenges of both, as well as my own evolving preferences – before settling on my current method.

I call it “progressive outlining,” and it helps me do two somewhat conflicting things:

Create an outline for structure and direction

Allow my characters the freedom to organically grow, surprise me, and influence the story

The Progressive Outline

There are three parts to my outlining process:

Initial preparation

Creating a rough outline

Incremental journeys

1. Initial Preparation

Here, I do my initial brainstorming. Starting with the original concept, I generate ideas for the setting, characters, motivations, plot points, magic systems, etc. You can spend as much time as you want in this stage, but for me, the most important things to firmly establish are:

Your main character (and what drives them emotionally)

A small, initial cast of characters

Any core magic or sci-fi elements

The opening setting of your story

Those four things are important, because they’re the foundation of the story – the launchpad, both for the writing and the outline.

2. Creating a Rough Outline

Next, I create a rough outline of the story, and I really do mean “rough.” Instead of detailing every beat of the story from beginning to end, I allow the outline to become increasingly broad and vague the further out it goes.

For example, let’s say my story is made up of three parts. The most detailed section in the outline would be Part 1; Part 2 would be pretty broad; and Part 3 would have just a few high-level bullet points.

In all those sections, however, I try to mark key turning points for the characters and the plot, even if I don’t know exactly what will happen. For example, I might say, “Our characters clash at the festival,” or, “A friend will somehow betray the main character’s trust, hurting their relationship.“

The point of this outline is to provide long-view guidance wherever I am in the story. However, I keep things relatively vague, because I like to delay making specific decisions until my characters are closer to each event.

3. Incremental Journeys

Now the fun part. Writing.

To start, I take my rough outline and make sure the first couple sections are nicely fleshed out. Then, considering everything I learned during my initial preparation and using my outline as a general (but not set-in-stone) guide, I write those first few chapters.

After finishing those chapters, I do three things:

I think about what I’ve learned about the characters and story so far.

Using what I’ve learned, I flesh out the next few chapters in the outline, which might include some further world building or character development.

I write the newly outlined chapters.

Then I repeat those three steps, again and again – progressively outlining and writing my way through the story in short, incremental journeys.

Why do I write this way?

As I said at the beginning, this approach gives me the structure and direction of an outline, without denying my characters the freedom to grow and surprise me. 

That’s why I write this way – outlining, yes, but leaving much of the outline initially broad and vague so that I can let my characters play a more active role in shaping how each plot point comes to life. The process is pretty similar to Flashlight Outlining, if any of you are familiar; the main difference, as far as I can see, is that I also maintain an overarching outline.

Should you write this way?

You’d know better than me! A key part of every writer’s development is figuring out their process, and we do that by writing and experimenting. So give this outlining process a shot if you’re dissatisfied with your current process or want to try an approach that draws from both plotters and pantsers.

And if you already love your process?

Please share it below! I’d love to hear how you write (with or without an outline) and why it works for you.

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WIP INTRO | THE LAST CADENZA 

genre | romance, dark ya

status | drafting

pitch | 

Mae has a simple plan for grade eleven: don’t think.

There’s a problem with that. Actually, two problems. The first problem is that as a frequent performer, she’s required to tap into thinking to be any good.

The second problem is Samir Anand. Samir is nothing like Mae expected, and he has a penchant for getting her to say more than she wants to. As Mae and Samir grow closer, and Mae has to hide their blossoming relationship from overbearing parents, it’s clear that Samir is going to make Mae abandon her plan. And then he’s going to make her hurt.

further concepts |

What’s it like to be a performer when you’re not sure you have the vibrancy you need to come alive on stage? What’s it like to fall in love with a person when you’re not sure you’re in love with being alive? Mae Montgomery, a high schooler struggling with undiagnosed mental illness, has to ask herself these questions. When it comes time to choose between honesty and self-preservation, will she be able to? The Last Cadenza explores the idea that a relationship can’t fix a mental illness, while also emphasizing that people with mental illnesses don’t need to be ‘fixed’ to participate in them. 

People are flawed, they make mistakes, and they learn. This is a deeply, deeply personal narrative, covering a range of topics, and Mae’s unreliable narration draws readers into a mess of partial truths, begging the question - will she ever be really honest with herself?

characters |

Mae Montgomery. Sixteen. She/her. Too many secrets. Loves to sing but wonders if she might not have what it takes to perform. 

Samir Anand. Seventeen. Always around. Too tall to be allowed. Mysterious and a little bit weird.

Amanda ‘Six’ Hefferman. Seventeen. She/her. Mae’s best friend. Too nosy. Loyal to Mae on every level.

excerpt | 

The day Samir Anand talks to me for the first time, it doesn’t change everything. My world doesn’t turn on it’s axis. 

It’s just a regular Tuesday. There’s nothing about the way he stands staring at the bulletin board with his hands shoved into his pockets to indicate that he’s going to be the most important person I’ve ever met, or that one day I’ll break his heart.

He says, “Hello, Mae.”

There’s a split second where I consider playing the game – sorry, Samir, right? – like I don’t know perfectly well who he is, but I’m too tired for that today. So I just let my backpack sag onto the floor. “Hey.” 

warnings* | mental illness, suicide, disordered eating, self harm

*all excerpts will be tagged extensively and appropriately. i will not be sharing the more intense scenes publicly. please - if something is not tagged that should be, please please let me know.

aesthetics | the anxiety of knowing you haven’t tried your best, a fake smile that hurts to put on, keeping secrets from yourself, standing too long under a hot shower, the terror of someone loving the person you’ve become for them, deep exhaustion

Here is a quiet moment of Cats Are Not Made of Fire, of Julian finding his words to discuss things about mental illness openly with a friend. This is one of the views people have of mentally ill artists that I wanted to challenge with this story, the idea that the illness does things. 

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @my-liminal-spaces @yakultlover457 @scvthian @writingbyjillian @drarrytrash8 @alicewestwater @estudiamo

“HOW DO I PLOT?” is a really common question/struggle/panic of writers. I have all these ideas, but how do I plot. My plot is full of holes., help?? 

And writing advice will often tell you that the answer is to ask, what does my character want? 

Which is really solid advice, but look what happens a lot of times when we try to apply it practically. 

What does my character want? Well, what she really wants is acceptance. Or, she wants to avoid her painful past. Or, she wants to be loved. These are all very legitimate “wants” or motivations for your character to have. But, in the thick of a story, they are like 0% helpful. 

Because these things are abstract. They can’t be DIRECTLY pursued by the character. The main character may not even be fully, consciously aware of what they want. Not all or even many of us in real life have that kind of self awareness. And that’s why I wrestled with this advice (and my plots) for so long. Because I always knew what my character wanted, but it was always too abstract to help. 

Instead, you have to get really nitty gritty and specific and tangible about your character’s wants. 

So no. Not acceptance. Your character wants to make this specific person like them. They want to get invited to this particular party. They want to be included in this particular conversation. They want to change the behaviors that label them as “weird.” They want to behave like or mimic this clique of people. Try to dig into and get more specific with even THOSE things because then what you’ll have is a rich hoard of things your character can do, things they can choose. So, maybe your character starts downplaying their geeky interests to seem less “weird.” Or is trying to convince their mom to let them shop where the “popular” kids shop. Write out the argument between parent and child. It fits into the story because it’s just a trickle-down of your character’s larger motivation. 

So: Not to avoid their past. To move out of the house that reminds them of what happened. To avoid a specific thing that triggers them. To change their identity. To cut off contact with this person. Write about their relief as they rip posters off the walls and paint over the scarring left. Get VERY SMALL. 

You’re only onto something helpful until you can state your character’s desires as a concrete verb, that is, something specific and tangible they can DO. Split these things down as far as you possibly can and extrapolate and explore them. Maybe your character wants to feel free from their grief (not “inner peace” or something”).WELL. Figuring out what your character wants and getting in the way of that isn’t just for big things. It’s for the tiny things too. I mean tiny things. Maybe your character is coping with their pain using comfort food, but the brand of ice cream they used to enjoy with their lost loved one is discontinued?? Sounds like a minor disappointment, but not while it is tied into much deeper things. You could have them have a breakdown over the ice cream and it will fit perfectly into the story.

Literally every action you take in life is toward *some* goal. You normally don’t think about how your desire for good grades is due to your underlying desire for self validation (just throwing something out there.) But think about the actions and feelings you take and have in connection to this. You might skip out on movie night with friends because you are stressed about a test. You might neglect self care in favor of studying. You might feel better and friendlier when your grades are good, but if you get a C in something, you might feel less passion for your hobbies and not want to talk to anyone because you feel depressed. 

If you wrote “self validation” as a motivation for your character you wouldnt have the least idea what to do with it, but “to obtain good grades” is getting closer and “to come up with an excuse to skip on movie night” is even better because it’s very immediate and specific.