everybody talks (about their writing process)

and in which I tell you mine

Hi friends!

It’s almost the end of the year, and instead of going over 2022 (I did that over on Instagram! So go check out those posts if you want to read about that) I want to talk about everyone’s favorite subject… writing.

Are you in House Pantser? Or House Plotter? Do you Snowflake Method, or do you Mystery Box it? Nine Box it? 5-Step it? Do you write from the beginning? The middle? The end?

The simple fact is: there’s no one way to write a novel (and anyone who says differently is trying to sell you something).

While there are classes you can take and techniques you can study to hone your own craft, the endeavor of actually writing is as personal as a fingerprint. Classes can teach you techniques so you can form your own process. For instance, I have some friends who have to have a strong outline. Others start with a scene they can’t get out of their head. A song in their ear. A piece of artwork. A vibe.

So, over twenty novels (nine of them published, four on the way, the rest in a junk drawer and we will never talk about them again, you hear me? put them back, todd, or so help me) later, I think I have a pretty good handle on my writing process. This isn’t really a how-to—because eventually, the longer you write, the more you understand your own unique process—but this is how I write.

STEP ONE.

Usually, I start with a scene.

It doesn’t have to be The Big Climactic Scene. Usually, it isn’t. In Heart of Iron, the first image I had was of a young woman and an android jumping from one spaceship to another, one second in a sea of stars, the next being shot at by angry-looking AI.

And so I thought: who are these characters? What do they want?

I started from there.

In Among the Beasts & Briars, the first image in my head was of a girl curling her fingers into the ground, and blooming flowers from her blood. Who is she? What does she want?

That’s always the question I ask—What do they want?

STEP TWO.

Once I figure that out, I usually break out Susan Dennard’s handy dandy How to Write A One-Page Synopsis. I always tweak the outline to fit whatever I’m writing at the time — the synopsis Susan gives is for the hero’s journey, and the plot beats in that sort of outline is different than, say, a thriller or a romance.

This is a great time to say: don’t be afraid to use tools other writers offer. It’s why they’re there! There seems to be this idea that professional writers are solitary creatures—that creating itself is solitary—and yeah, a little, but when it comes to improving craft and find the tools that help you, whether those tools are other author’s worksheets or an agent—or editor—who helps you craft ideas, help is never a bad thing.

Writing a book is much like raising a child: it takes a village.

STEP THREE.

Then, I write the outline.

This is a newer occurrence, actually. Most of the time in step three, I just write the dang thing, but I found a better way to go about drafting in 2020, when I had the chance to sit in on an outlining lecture with Mark Oshiro at a Madcap Retreat. (A similiar lecture can be found here.)

And it absolutely changed how I wrote—

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I think the best way to explain my outline is to show you the one I used for The Dead Romantics. This outline also doubled as the proposal we sent out on submission when we shopped the book to publishers.

This outline is 132 pages long. It details the entire book, down to the ending—it’s my version of a “draft zero”… with a catch:

It’s all in third person present tense.

The Dead Romantics, however, is in first person past.

Which means, you guessed it…

STEP FOUR.

Rewrite the outline in the voice of the book. Usually this adds about 30k-50k words in the process, because not only do I now have to flesh out the scenes and add connective tissue to them, but I also have to do it in the voice of the main character if it’s first person, or in the voice of the close narrator if it’s third.

This is where I can be really, really speedy. I can turn this step around in a week and a half if I need to—and have before. (It was a very dark time in the Poston household. I subsisted on peanut butter and Doritos and coffee, and it was bleak.)

This is also the step I both love and hate the most.

STEP FIVE.

Then, we edit it. For me, that means printing out the entire thing, sticking it in a binder, and breaking out my sticky notes. I realize, with PDFs and tablets, this is an old-school way of editing, but it’s how I’m most comfortable. (It’s also how I’ve edited my stories since high school. I still have binders with the books I wrote in high school, notes jotted in the margins. It’s a great time capsule. Yes, I still had as many typos then as I do now.)

My words look different when I print them out. I can see the bigger picture when it’s not on a screen. Also, it helps with my migraines.

This process can take anywhere from a week to a month. I’m never afraid to mark through the manuscript with a purple pen (never red: red is angry, purple is ~nice~), scratching out entire passages, scribbling filler onto sticky notes and taping them in the margins.

Here is where I also start to keep a running checklist of things I need to remember when I get to the end of the novel. Are all the character arcs wrapped up? Are any questions left unanswered? A checklist helps me keep track of those, and it’s so cathartic to check the boxes at the end.

STEP SIX.

The edited manuscript goes to critique partner(s)—or my editor, depending on how tight the deadline is.

STEP SEVEN.

Then I get critique back, and I edit it again.

Here’s a tip: don’t be too precious with your ideas. Pick a few hills to die on—the hills that really matter to you, to this story—and remember that you’re always closer to your novel than anyone else reading it, so you won’t always be able to see the bigger picture.

I’m a big fan of the phrase “Kill your darlings”—but I have a feeling a lot of newer writers take it literally. To me, “kill your darlings” does not mean getting rid of your favorite parts of your book—it means, if they do not serve a purpose in the plot you’ve created, saw them apart and sew them back together somewhere else. It could also mean that this book might not be the right fit for this darling. Take it out, put it in your desk drawer like Mary Shelley did her late husband’s heart.

It’ll still be good when you take it out for the next book, I promise.

STEP EIGHT.

I edit it again.

No, really, when authors say that half of writing is rewriting, believe them.

STEP NINE.

Copyedits. Pass pages (of which there are usually three rounds).

STEP TEN (part one).

Repeat Step One, and do it all over again.

or

STEP TEN (part two).

I take a break. Go on a vacation. Read some books. Play a video game. Write some fanfic.

Burnout is a real concern for writers—full-time, part-time, sometime… Burnout comes for everyone, eventually. Treat yourself with care, and always—always—write because you want to, and if you begin to hate it, find something that reminds you of why you love to write.

For me, that’s writing fanfiction.

Fanfiction helps me connect back to why I wanted to pursue this career in the first place—because I love the act of writing. I love sharing my worlds with other people. (Or, in the case of fanfiction, sharing an already-created world with my favorite blorbos with other people who also love those blorbos.)

Remember why you love what you do. Keep it close to your heart. Protect it.

Because the business of publishing sure as heck won’t. Sometimes publishing is lovely—for me, this past year, it’s been lovely. But it isn’t always lovely. Sometimes this business sucks ass.

So hold tight to what you love about writing, and remind yourself of it as often as you can. It doesn’t cure burnout, but it helps you wade through it.

And that’s it!

That’s my process.

Your process is probably a little different. Maybe you do the Snowflake Method, maybe you do the Nine Boxes. Maybe you just sit down and adventure your way through a story—maybe you write your favorite scenes first.

It might evolve over time—god, I know mine does—and it’s OK to try new techniques and processes, sign up for new classes, read craft novels, gather resources like Ash Ketchum collecting Pokemon. And don’t ever let anyone tell you that you’re doing it wrong.

You aren’t. You’re just figuring your own way through a story.

And we each do it a little differently.

Best,
Ash