When the Plan Stops Working, Follow the Story
I have always been a little envious of plotters. Seeing the control they have of their stories, the lists (I’m a Leo-Virgo cusper; I love a good list) of scenes and plot points. The cohesive draft they have at the end instead of a bowl of spaghetti they need to now straighten out.
The times I’ve tried to wrangle my Pantser (one who writes by the seat of her pants, aka discovery or organic writers) soul into an outline have been disastrous.
I know the benefits of an outline, but for me they’re often far too rigid, especially when you start writing and find there’s no room for creative expansion.
You’re making progress on your story. You’re showing up to write every day. But maybe it’s not as exciting as it once was. Maybe at this point you’re going through the motions to get the story on the page. You show up, check what’s next, write the scene. Call it a day. Go about your business.
You’re proud of your progress, but maybe deep down, you know the story you’re building doesn’t feel alive the way it should. The way it did during the outlining phase when you mapped out each scene in the order everything made sense.
Or, maybe you still are having fun and the story does feel alive! I’m not here to rain on anyone’s parade. Think of this more as a check in. How do you really feel about your story?
Have you ignored any opportunities to divert from your outline?
When you’ve worked so hard to plan things out, and the story starts tugging you in a new direction, or your characters take the helm and start making decisions on their own, you ignore that tug in favor of following your original outline you worked so hard to create.
If you believe you must stick to your outline no matter what and want to feel that creative joy again while you write, this one’s for you, baby.
Even if outlining works brilliantly for you, there’s probably something here that’ll light a fire under you and your story anyway.
Let’s check it out!
Outlines are great, especially when flexibility is built in
Before we dig in, I just want to make it absolutely clear: I am not here to poo poo anyone’s writing method or process. I believe all writers have a right to discover the writing process that works for them. If outlining is your jam, more power to you (I’m still envious of you). What I’m here to talk about today is when your outline starts to sap away your creative energy. So if you aren’t feeling excitement for your story despite having an outline, I’m here to help you rekindle that excitement.
Okay, let’s first talk about a few things that might happen when you stick rigidly to your beautifully crafted outline.
1. Your creative flow starts to feel like a blocked drain pipe
If you’ve been writing for any amount of time, you’ve probably experienced that coveted flow state where words pour out of you, surprising even you as they appear on the page. That’s where the good stuff happens, right? Unexpected twists, character moments that make you gasp or even cry, a page of snappy dialogue that reveals something you didn’t see coming.
That kind of magic happens to us all. But when you force your story to stick to the outline you created, no matter how good that outline is or how much of your heart and soul you poured into it, sometimes that kind of flow gets stifled.
Or worse: straight up blocked.
I’ve been here before. I wrote a whole early draft of what is now The Blood of Seven sticking to a rigid outline. When I finished it, sure I was proud. But when my twin sister, my #1 ride or die fan read it, she said it was boring.
My outline was a list of scenes I thought the story needed, and though I did pour my own heart and soul into it, the story’s heart and soul was left off the page. And also, as a Pantser, the whole process wasn’t as fun as it usually is.
2. Your characters start to feel like puppets not people
Characters are meant to feel. To want, to need, to change.
When your outline’s list of scenes, turning points, inciting incidents, dark nights of the soul take priority over who your character needs to become, they become marionettes you’re dragging through the story by their strings.
It leads to decisions that are completely unmotivated. Actions that don’t make sense. And a character who is the same at the beginning as they are at the end.
In other words, they’re paper dolls in business suits instead of the complex people they are destined to be. When you start to let go of the reins and let the character lead, the story will be more compelling.
I’ve been here, too! I had an outline I was proud of (this time for a book I never ended up taking beyond the first draft), characters I loved who were beautifully flawed. I let them go off script for a minute, but then, in order to get things back on track, instead of digging into what they’d just found, they went somewhere else for no reason whatsoever other than to get my story back on track. I didn’t follow their story.
Your character’s story is what matters.
3. Your story might feel like an empty husk
Imagine this: You followed your outline to the T. You finished your draft. You print out your pages and lovingly embrace them, proud of the work you’ve accomplished. You finished your novel! Congratulations!
Not a lot of writers reach this stage. The statistics are alarming if not devastating.
You start to read it. There might be a few turns of phrase you love, characters you still like despite just having been through the whole first draft experience with them (raise your hand if you’ve ever started to hate your characters, haha cry).
Something happens in the story, and then the next thing… it might make sense on the surface, but you start to wonder if your character would really make that choice. You start to question everything.
You skip along on this journey, watching as your outline unfolds scene by scene. You reach the last page and your heart is stricken.
Something’s missing. But you don’t know what.
You are still proud of what you’ve written (as you should be). But you aren’t sure what to do here.
The good news is, you have a foundation down. Something you can use as a starting point to deepen.
As long as you’re willing to get go of that initial plan and let the story be what it wants to be.
This was my client Jen, a new writer excited to have a finished novel, but not excited about the next step. She came to me for a manuscript evaluation because she wasn’t sure what was wrong with her story, nor where to begin revising. I read through it. I knew going in she had taken a novel writing class and wrote from an outline, and it showed. The story premise was fantastic, but the execution was lacking.
We started with a version of the Story Compass in a deep dive format, took her back to the heart of her story. It felt like a switch was flipped. Her connection to her story, with her characters, and looking at her outline from a different angle of not a straight shot, but a winding path, freed her mind and opened up her creativity. She transformed almost over night. Even her writing changed. She rekindled her excitement for her story, and it showed on the page. She knew her character on a deeper level that made it easy to let her take the wheel.
She became a brand new writer. Still with an outline, I must add! But with the deep connection that allowed the outline to take shape in a way that served the story, and allowed her main character to be in charge.
Let Your Story Take the Lead
Here’s what I want you to know: as gorgeous as your outline is, it is not a dictator. It’s a tool. A guide. A starting point, not a contract signed in blood and first born children.
It’s okay to veer off the path and explore what could happen over there without bringing things back to the original plan.
It’s okay, especially in the first draft phase, to see what other options are out there, and to rework the outline if you like the way it went, rather than forcing your characters back to the straight and narrow path.
If you find you’re sticking to our outline to the detriment of your imagination and creativity, if you find writing isn’t as exciting as it once was, if you finish your draft and feel something is missing, here’s how to get back in touch with your story’s heart:
1. Remember the spark.
What excited you about this idea in the first place?
Reconnect with that. That first flash of inspiration, the question or character or moment that made you have to write this book. Re-experience that moment.
That’s where your power for this story lives like an electrical current.
2. Dig into your deeper “why.”
I mean deep. Mariana Trench deep. Your story has an emotional core or truth inside of it. Something that lives in your heart. You probably even have some iota of lived experience to tap into that you can use to fuel this depth.
Why do you want to write this particular story (of all story ideas you likely have)? Why does it matter to you? What do you want your reader to understand about you, the world, themselves, humans in general when they finish reading it?
Dig deep. Make yourself angry. Make yourself cry. Make yourself laugh maniacally. Tap into your raw emotions.
This deep connection will help you to see what your story really is. This is where your story’s power lives.
3. Let your characters drive.
Your characters are the vessels that carry that meaning you just unearthed in your Why. And when you understand your “why,” their motivations become clearer and so much more compelling.
This is the game changer.
While writing your next outline (even if it’s for a revision–especially if it’s for a revision), at the end of every scene you jot down, ask yourself, Why would they do that? What makes this scene important to them? Why does it matter to them?
Not to you. You’re not in charge here. Your character is. If the scene isn’t important to them and what they want and need and are motivated by… well… I’m sorry to say, but the scene may not need to be in the book (don’t hate me! You don’t want your book to be a collection of scenes that don’t matter!)
Then ask yourself this:
Given what they just experienced, what would they do next?
Not what you planned. What they would actually do.
This is the basis of a cause and effect trajectory that will make your story compelling.
That’s how you follow the story.
The Middle Ground
I’ve been in your shoes. I already told you a couple of anecdotes about the times I was too rigid with my outlines. Once a die-hard Pantser who tried outlining with the traditional methods. Now I’ve found a wonderful middle ground. I don’t even call myself a plotster or plantser. I follow my own methods. I let my characters lead the way. I look at what the next plausible thing should be with a cause and effect flow in mind. When the story shifts, or I run into a brick wall, I re-evaluate.
What would they do next given what just happened?
Because when you follow the story instead of forcing it, that’s where the real magic happens.
Follow the story
You don’t have to choose between structure and soul.
Your outline is beautiful. I know it is. You put great care into writing it. There’s no right or wrong way to write a book, and if you need an outline, by all means, that’s your way.
But please, at the very least, check it over against what you just learned. Does each scene naturally lead to the next through your character’s motivations, wants, needs, desires? Does each scene matter to your character?
There are no wasted words. If you find some scenes that no longer work, they don’t have to go in the trash. Keep a trim bin and hold onto them for another story down the road. If you cling to scenes because you love them, it’s time to ask, does my character also love them? Does it matter to them?
If you’re ready to follow your story…
This small-but-mighty coaching experience will help you:
- Reconnect to the heart of your story,
- Align your characters with your deeper “why,” and
- Create a flexible path forward that actually works for the way you write.
Book a Story Compass today!
(And if you’re not sure if it’s right for you? You can always reach out—I love helping writers find their true north.)
