Wha—ha! Didn’t see that coming did you? Did you? I should say not, because even I didn’t see it coming. So, morning, afternoon, that thing that comes later, to you alls. Today we’re going to be speaking, I speak—you listen, about how to plot without a plan.
Gasp! C’est impossible, no? Um…no? It’s totally possible. I think.
You can be a plotter without a plan, but how, how do we do it!? Shut up and stop asking questions imaginary thingies. Let me talk. Okay, so plotting without an intricate plan, well you see, it happens all the time. You do it everyday, you just need to know the signs! And how to fanangle them all together into a messy cobweb of ideas, then just follow the lines. It’s easier than it sounds, and so much harder to do than you thought and thunk.
Making sense yet? No? Good, keep listening and reading.
Most people already have ideas for a story, or stories. You have characters, maybe not all the finer details hammered out, but you have ’em. You have some scenes here and there, some thoughts, thunks, things and places you’d like to visit. But what now? Well, you start with what you have. Ever see giant ball of yarn? You have? Wonderful. You’re either a cat or a crazy yarn craftsman. It’s okay, my mom’s one of those.
What happens when you tug on a ball of string, it unravels right? That’s what you need to do here, start at the very first bit you can, and tug. Start writing, just do it, let go and do it. Start with a good opening word, that’s all you need—one word.
…No pressure.
And the rest will come, it just will, stop worrying about pages or chapters ahead. Hell, don’t even think about the next word, just the one your on as you’re on it, that’s it. The more you tug, the more you’re story will unravel and boom, you’re starting to see the whole plot. Nifty huh? Yeah, there will be knots at times, so what, you add a little twist to the tugs, a pinch and pull here and there, and it too—unravels. Sweet huh? But you have to trust, let go and just write. Start. That’s how blarghing works, and it’s working pretty well for me if I do say so myself.
And I do. Because no one else will say it for me, now will they? Don’t answer. You little voices in my noggin are only going to reaffirm just how crazy I am. But if you absolutely must say something, there’s a comment box now to leave your voice smatterings and chatterings in.
But yes. Find string. Tug. Tug more. Repeat. Plot. Story. Not so hard now is it? You have the concept, but you have to do the wording on your own. This is how do you the pantsless dance. Take that image out of your head now.
There.
There once was. Or…. There is. There is going to be? There is trouble? There is no way out. There is no easy way to say this. There was no way out and the building was on fire?
See what I did there? Just one word…. One word starts it all. One word to bind them all. One word to rule them all!!! Sorry I couldn’t resist. But start with one word and you can’t help but form a story from it, or form your story around it. Writers are those who write. You can plan, that’s fine, but if you can’t or don’t want to, then don’t. Don’t sit around waiting for your story to take shape. SHAPE IT. SCULPT IT. And you can only do that by starting to write.
One word. Then tug. Just tug. Eventually you will unravel it all. There will be a plot. And you’ll get from fragmented point A to every crazy and wayward point B. Have a little faith in yourselves and in your story. One last time. Seriously try this exercise on your own just to get writing. Here’s a word, just run away with it.
Bang.
That one onomatopoeia can start so many stories, short and or long. What can you do with it? Show me in the comments. Show me. Show me.
Bang.
Now go write little wordlings. Write.
Bang!
BANG! He slammed the door into the wall. His princess was hidden somewhere within the building and he had to find her! He scoured the room he’d stumbled into first, it was empty, no evidence of a princess or a heathen in sight. He stormed further into the dwelling, seeing movement to the left. In the kitchen stood his princess, cooking for her captor! His princess did not cook, no way, she was too special for that menial task! She must be rescued from the tortures! He ran into the room, swept his princess up into his arms, and headed for the door. The short captor chased after him, trying to keep the princess in the kitchen. As the chase led into the next room, the heathen grabbed for the man’s ankles. He tripped, the princess flying from his arms and onto the couch. He was caught! It was too late! The heathen sat on top of him and did the unthinkable! Tickled him! Aladdin was home, his wife had dinner ready, and his son had captured him again. Life was good.
Well, there’s a story, at least I know my process works. I’m helping. I might be groaning about the Aladdin bit.
How could I resist? And I behaved relatively well! and I didn’t point out that R.R. Virdi is Aladdin’s identical twin…oh wait just did….
Bang! His head bounced off the desk. Bang—bang—bang his head left a hole in said desk. He killed himself.
see that is far more violent, mine was a happy story about a man coming home and playing a game with his waiting family….