Today’s post is by author Bryan Wiggins.
“Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”
That quote, attributed to Picasso, reflected his commitment to mastering classical techniques before venturing into the abstract work that made him an icon of human creativity.
Learning the “rules” for writing fiction before I could distinguish myself as a literary artist was certainly my goal when I first committed to an early-morning practice of working on my stories. That was the only way I could make daily progress on my long-form work before starting my day job cranking out ad copy. I read more books than I can remember, applying what I learned to the six novels I wrote.
The one that laid out the most accessible plan for me was Larry Brooks’ Story Engineering. It was the first guide that revealed how to coordinate the inner and external journeys that pack the double-punch in a knockout narrative. A complementary change in both protagonist and plot is the key to keeping the reader engaged, page after page. That four-part evolution—in which a character’s identity shifts from orphan to wanderer, warrior, and finally martyr, and the plot moves through setup, response, attack, and resolution—remains the primary focus of my daily dives into the fictive realm.
A design for concept distillation
Even with Brooks’ sharp analysis, however, the depth of the “six core competencies of storytelling” that he detailed in his book were still too overwhelming for me to synthesize as a guide for writing my tales. So I turned to my training as a graphic artist to create a template that could crystallize the key points of Brooks’ plan. Here’s a thumbnail peek at the novel blueprint I made to guide the development of my tales:
Brooks seemed to bless the way I’d visually distilled the concepts he verbally defined from the storytelling traditions that have evolved since our ancestors first traded tales around the fire. When he asked to put my blueprint in his follow-up book, Story Physics, I was delighted to complement his narrative approach with my visual cheat-sheet. Its power was further proved in the help it gave me in writing Autumn Imago, a novel that earned traditional publication with HarperCollins.
Customizing content to turn principles into plot
When I later tried my hand at self-publishing, however, I wanted to make a custom map based on my theoretical model, so I delved into creating one in Adobe InDesign. I also started folding in reference points from other writing teachers. I adopted ideas on my story’s premise, theme, and designing principle that I developed from John Truby’s The Anatomy of Story. James Scott Bell’s “mirror moment” detailed in Write Your Novel from the Middle became another tool for navigating around the “muddle in the middle” that so many novelists struggle with. As you can see from the thumbnail below, my new template got quite complex. But when the medical thriller I created from it (The Corpse Bloom) started snagging some attention and awards, I gave credit to my latest visual outline for its success.
Time made it time to try something else
The temporal frame I’m just starting to explore for my latest novel-in-progress (Last Catch) now has me tinkering in Adobe Illustrator to build the new kind of blueprint I need. The story’s twin timelines of two single days in the life of its lobsterman-protagonist mandate that I not only account for each hour in these twin tales but also environmental notes on the sunrise, sunset, and tidal flows that frame my hero’s final day at sea. In the screenshot below, you can see that there are still holes to fill in for the “child’s” narrative. But the more details I add about the “man’s” story and its climatic context, the stronger the links become that join the tale’s two storylines to support the novel’s theme on the value our mortality grants to the meaning of our lives. Complementing the two plot timelines against another one for the lobsterman’s fishing trip (shown at right, below) grants me triple power in promoting my message that our short lifespans make each moment most precious when we live it both consciously and conscientiously.
Scrivener as a key for blueprint flexibility
For a structure-freak like me, the process of creating these kinds of detailed models comes with a caution; it can lead to an obsession with byzantine blueprints that threatens to miss the magic the subconscious serves up when writing in a more organic mode. So, for the novel I just completed (Tremolo Pond), I challenged myself to give the Adobe Suite a rest in order to develop a quicker way to map my stories in the same program I write them in. The final three annotated screenshots below show how I used Scrivener’s corkboard view to create a dynamic chapter grid I can keep noodling with as I work back and forth between my novel’s master plan and the intuitive insights the muse dishes up when I’m zoomed into the scene-writing zone. My novel blueprint still forms the foundation of this process, but I’ve used it long enough to develop an intuitive feel for its principles. Therefore, my Scrivener template doesn’t require many of the labels and definitions that appear in my original “master” blueprint.
Want to play with your own story plan?
If you’d like to adapt this system to your own work—or simply explore how visual planning might energize your process—visit this page on my website. There you’ll find a printable version of my novel blueprint and larger views of the screenshots shown above. My hope is that they’ll provide the same value to you that they have for me. None is a “recipe” for creating a successful novel, but I believe they can be important ingredients for one. The real magic comes, of course, from your own insights and experiences. Those echoes of your spirit breathe life into narratives that—when structured soundly—have the power to entertain, educate, and enlighten all.
Bryan Wiggins is the author of the HarperCollins-published novel, Autumn Imago, and the award-winning self-published novel The Corpse Bloom. He’s given presentations on his writing process at the Muse and Marketplace writers’ conference in Boston as well as the Maine Writers and Publishers Association. As a former brand strategist, he applies a marketer’s focus on discovering the heart of a story in his novel explorations of family and nature. Bryan works and plays in the adopted home state that’s made Maine the star in many of his stories and an inspiration for them all. You can learn more about him and his work at brywig.com.
As a pantser, I find my head exploding.
Really appreciate the Scrivener tips especially! Thanks for this. Will share with students!
Thanks for this validation of these tips, Anne. I offer these tools for use in the same way I’ve leveraged others: adapting these models as the writer sees fit to do the one thing we each need to do in addition to writing our stories—learning the way to write them that captures our own unique voice and perspective on our world.
One question though: do you ever find yourself spending time on ‘perfecting’ your outline’s fiddly little bits when you really should just be writing? That’s my biggest problem with creating charts about creativity; it’s sometimes just a perfect avenue for procrastination.
Of course, it can still be very helpful and fun. I just have to try not to get caught up in it. (The same goes for thinking about formatting and such before the content is finished. A classic pitfall for many I know, myself included.)
Excellent question, Eloarei,
I do pivot from writing to explore the templates I create for my novels, but I’m not sure that time is wasted. Mapping a visual path through the story taps into a different creative well — one that can nourish the work when the prose pond runs dry.
That said, the Scrivener workflow I included at the end of the piece was born from the same “problems” with chart-making that you mention. I created it to offer a simpler, more streamlined path through all those evolving overviews.
In the end, these graphic experiments are all aimed at the same goal I believe we share as writers: finding our way to the most compelling story we can tell.
Nice charts! I like Larry Brooks’ story map. I use virtually the same thing, but by Kim Weiland. This kind of organization can help visual learners. Some plotters really need this kind of organization.
Personally, I like using plain ‘ole Word to list my major plot points per the overarching story map, then I develop that into a chapter plan which fills in those plot points with scenes. I use the various levels of headings to organize my plan. I also incorporate points from separate character arc summaries into this plan. Probably I should use some colors like you have to highlight my major plot points and character growth to make sure they’re placed where they should be; that’s a good idea to try for my next book. Thanks for sharing your method!
Thanks for sharing, Katherine. Your approach echoes a second step I have in my own process, which is to write a Word outline of all chapters based on the big beats outlined in my blueprints.
As I assume you find with your “chapter plans,” writing short synopses of each chapter creates the narrative North Stars that shine a light on how each chapter advances both character and plot development. I’m delighted to hear how other writers like you explore your own conceptual paths to finding the heart of your tales.
A big thank you to Bryan. I am in revisions and struggling with structure and organizing the scenes. This post couldn’t have come at a better time. I also write in Scrivener and found these charts / tips and guidance really helpful. I truly appreciate the generosity of time and expertise that authors give to the writing community. xoxox
My pleasure, Christine. I’m honored to give back a bit to the generous community of scribes who support the work you and I do.
I look forward to reviewing your charts in more detail. I imagine I could apply a lot of the same ideas to my memoir-in-progress. Thanks for this!
Glad that this tool might help you, Kathryn. My daughter is a budding memoirist, and we’ve had interesting discussions on the commonalities and differences between the approach to creating stories in that genre and works of fiction. Good luck exploring your tale!
I already do half of this in Scrivener and love the additional tips!
Thanks for the feedback, Karen. Good to know we’re on the same path of trying to apply structural templates to Scrivener. I like the Adobe Suite, but my goal these days is to get my story maps down as quickly as possible, and Scrivener’s corkboard view seems to be a good way to go.
This is great. Must confess, I’ve never seen this story framework before. Very useful. Thank you.
Thanks Ian. I didn’t invent the underlying story structure, I just visualized it from Larry Brooks’ concepts, and I think Larry would agree that he crystalized them from other models that have been around for years. Bottom line, each writer needs to adapt tools like this as they see fit. Good luck with your own efforts in doing so!
Another blueprinter! Thank you Bryan (and Jane Friedman) for sharing this. I also had a past life in corporate strategy and analysis that never really leaves me, despite my best interests. It was a given that I would create a blueprint for creative fiction, so I’m smiling to find like-minded writers. My version is a simple word template in tables. It lacks colour codes and symbols, so far, but covers a lot of territory, including the plot points where the rough chapter drafting begins before being copied across.
To get away from the computer, I map ‘bi things’ on butchers paper at my easel (e.g. a collection of ten short stories around a single rural property) but there is something special (or locked in corporate) about clean lines and a few fingers of colour. I have downloaded a couple from your piece in which to get lost for a while. Thank you.
My pleasure, Virginia, and thanks for reminding me of the power of non-digital tools like your butchers paper sketches. I do have a notebook on my desk that I often turn to as the start for the original ideas for new templates. Sometimes the direct connection between the brain and hand without the digital interface to interrupt the creative flow is the best way to get the germ of an idea down.
My pleasure, Bryan. Despite a methodical mind, I can make chaos and get lost in notebooks, no matter mucy method and discipline I apply. The bigger the ‘canvas’ for ideation, the better for me. * ‘the word with ‘things’ should be big, naturally.
Agreed, Virginia. If you have a decent-sized monitor to use as your “canvas” you might want to check out Scapple. It’s made by the Scrivener folks and integrates well with that program. Attached is a peek at how I used it to mind-map a character web for my WIP based on Myers-Briggs personality profiles.
Ooh, your Scapple map, in addition to your Scrivener blueprint process, is giving me some wonderful ideas. Like a mandala map. I’m thinking of using this for plotting villains’ trajectories. Thank you, Bryan!
My pleasure, Helen! This kind of collaboration of ideas is the lifeblood of our tribe. Thanks for pointing to another possible path for you and others to follow when visualizing story structure.