Occasionally, I’m asked about various aspects of my writing process. One question that pops up consistently on these inconsistent occasions is: do you outline or do you make it up as you go? This is a reasonable question and one that is debated among writers. The answer is simple and frustrating at the same time: Yes.

There are drawbacks and benefits both to outlining and to winging it. Frequently, an author (such as myself) will use a combination of them, whether they intend to or not. The journey from idea to completion varies from author to author and book to book. The only consistency being that no two books look alike.

Outlining certainly has its advantages. It gives you a roadmap through the book, a sense that you’re moving in a distinct direction. If you’re writing a mystery, it can be invaluable. You get a sense of where to drop the clues, when to include action scenes, when to give the reader a new turn in the plot. It can give you an idea of a character’s emotional arc and how to unspool information about them, regardless of genre. It gives you an opportunity to think out the plot before you commit too many words to paper. 

That doesn’t mean outlining is foolproof (as this fool has proven many times). I’ve often compared outlining to flying over a large city at night. You see the gridwork of lights standing out against the blackness and there’s a kind of beauty in it. It’s only when you’re at street level in that same city that you can see the cracks: the graffiti, the lousy neighborhoods, the traffic congestion, etc. Outlining is flying over the city. Street level is drafting the manuscript. You can have something outlined perfectly in your mind, but once you’re working through the manuscript, you may find yourself asking, “What the hell was I thinking there?” Or you get a flash of a great idea, one that HAS to be included in the story, and you discover said idea has knocked your outline completely off its axis. An outline can be a good guide, but it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re winding the watch and letting it tick while the manuscript unfolds.

Winging it has the benefit of spontaneity. The author gets to discover characters, situations and resolutions as they go. Sure, you can have these moments while outlining, but here you have them WHILE WRITING THE STORY. You have a stronger feel for the flow of the narrative. You also get a stronger feel for the characters and their arc because you’re living the story right along with them.

On the other hand, winging it doesn’t necessarily mean you won’t hit snags in the plot. And if you hit one, you create the possibility of having to go back and rewrite whole sections of the story to make it up. Additionally, if you’re someone who prefers forward momentum while you’re writing, winging it might not be for you. It may require frequently stopping and asking yourself what you’re going to do next. This can take minutes, hours or even days. And there’s no guarantee the solution you come up with will be the right one. You increase your possibility of finishing a draft and having a complete mess you nearly have to rewrite. 

Ultimately, it comes down to what works for you. You just need to know WHERE you find enjoyment in writing. My friend Ellen Hart once talked about how Alfred Hitchcock so thoroughly storyboarded and planned his films that actually shooting them was rather boring for him. She used that as an example of why it’s best not to plan too much in advance. It takes all the fun out of the process. However, I heard that and thought, “It WAS fun for Hitchcock. But the fun was in the planning, not in the shooting.” It is, ultimately, which PART of the process you find most enjoyable.

So, you might be saying, “Geez, Randy, that’s a lot of words without coming down on one side or the other.” Well, I HAVE picked a side, and it’s the side of outlining. I can’t imagine writing a book without a plan, even if the original plan doesn’t entirely resemble the finished product. But that doesn’t mean I see it as the ONLY way to write a book. I’m not breaking new ground when I say: Writing a book is damn hard work. So, the only thing you can do–the only thing any of us can do–is find something that works for you and go with it. Live and let live. And happy writing!