Writers come in a variety pack of processes. The most common types – regardless of genre – are pantsers, plotters, and plantsers. We know these terms well, right?
- Pantsers sit down at the keyboard and see what falls out of their fingertips for a while to figure out how the story will take shape.
- Plotters lay everything out in advance, so they have a guide for their story.
- Those rebel Plantsters do a little bit of planning – maybe the inciting incident and the turning points, possibly the All Is Lost moment – but not too much before they write away.
And Then There Are Story Quilters Like Me
These storytellers might do one or all of the three methods above, but probably not in the same way. Story Quilters are writers who divide books into individual scenes that they stitch together later into a cohesive story.
If I want this brain of mine to make continual progress, I must take a story down to a bite-sized chunk of writing. I am not alone in this.
Some writers like Diana Gabaldon, Lorna Landvik, and Janet Fitch (and little old me!) don’t see their stories from beginning to end. Instead, we see glimpses and glimmers that we write down until the whole fabric of the story becomes clear. Janet Fitch originally wrote White Oleander as a series of short stories. Lorna Landvik (Angry Housewives Eating BonBons) has been known to string a clothesline down her hallway during the editing phase, with every scene on an index card. She walks the hall, shuffling the cards around, until the story feels right to her.
The idea of doing it this way gives most of my fellow scriveners hives but hear me out. I have good reasons for this.
Sometimes a Book Just Feels Way Too Big
For some writers, the idea of an entire novel can paralyze you and send your muse back under the covers for the day.
Maybe it’s an ADD thing, or our executive function is too unreliable for a project as big as a book. Maybe focus is a monumental achievement some days. Maybe you are sandwiching writing in between all the other things you must do and you only have a tiny slice of time.
All I know is that I tried a gajillion “linear” beginning-to-end ways in my quest to get a book off the ground and finished and none of them worked. I could start a story, but I couldn’t seem to keep my focus and finish the darn thing. I tried many many fancy things: Fast Draft, the W-Plot, the Snowflake Method. They all helped me be a better writer, but none of them got me to “The End.”
The only thing I’ve found that can get this brain to the end of a story is to embrace my inner scene writer and let her lead the way.
Let’s get this scene-writing ball rolling with some definitions.
What Is a Scene?
I love how Margaret Dilloway describes it in this post:
Each scene is an event that changes the character’s situation in a meaningful way.
- Every scene needs something to happen.
- Each scene produces a change achieved through conflict.
- Each scene shows how the character responds under pressure.
The hard part: If the scene doesn’t meet these criteria, take it out.
Further reading: C.S. Lakin did a post here at WHW with 10+ questions to consider when crafting a scene. Awesome stuff.
How Long Is a Scene?
Scene length varies depending on a lot of factors, including the genre, pacing preferences for the scene, and the author’s personal style. While thrillers and action-adventure stories often have shorter, snappier scenes—say, in the 1,000-word range—the word count typically goes up in literary fiction, historical fiction, and fantasy stories. So let’s take an average and say our scenes will run around 2,000 words long.
Here’s some math on this (knowing the numbers will change for longer scenes):
If each page is 250 words, that maps out to roughly 4-20 pages per scene.
- Doing the math for novel-length fiction, you will end up with 50-60 scenes per novel if you keep your scenes at about 2,000 words.
Keep in mind that just as white space draws the eye down the page, shorter scenes tend to keep your readers turning pages. “Only four or five more pages? I can keep reading…”
We’ve all done that. So if shorter scenes work for your story, they can also have the added benefit of encouraging that page-turning effect for readers.
What Does It Mean to Be a “Scene Writer?” (Aka Story Quilter)
As I mentioned above, all those cool linear “big picture” methods I mentioned above aren’t small enough for me to stay focused. My busy brain says, “Ooooh…GLITTER!” And I’m off doing something else, instead of writing those 50-ish scenes that make up a novel-length story.
It was Diana Gabaldon who shined light on scene-writing as a possible writing process. I read some articles about Gabaldon and how she wrote the Outlander series.
In her own words:
Anyway, yes; I write just about everything piecemeal, including nonfiction articles, book reviews and essays. It’s effective because it works; I’m never held up stewing about What Comes Next— I don’t care what comes next, I just care about something I can see happening. The order of the happening has a logic to it (often, more than one), and that will become clear to me as I work.
When I read about Gabaldon, a light went on in my head. I finally accepted the truth: I’m a scene writer.
The scenes don’t even have to be in order, they just have to be finite. I need to be able to open a writing program, create a document, and save it in the correct folder. I don’t have to see anything except that scene during the writing session.
How Can YOU Use Scene Writing to Your Advantage?
Scene writing isn’t just a way of life for Story Quilters, it’s a powerful weapon in any writer’s creative arsenal.
One of my writing friends, Laura Drake, is a linear writer who gets stuck in the middle of every book. As a pantser, she comes to that terrible predictable place, that muggy limbo land, where her story is going nowhere and she doesn’t know what to do. She wonders if she should quit writing the story altogether. Every. Single. Book.
When she calls me from Limbo Land, you already know what I tell her to do: write a throwaway scene.
Examples of out-of-order scenes:
- An interview with your main character.
- A character engaging in a hobby you make up on the spot.
- A quick trip through their closet, car trunk, or underwear drawer.
- Figure out their favorite song, and why it’s their favorite.
- Head over to One Stop for Writers and use some of those cool tools. (Character Builder fun, anyone?)
The point of this exercise is to invite your muse to take you to the next place in your story. And even if you don’t use the scene in your book, you can use it as a marketing tool. Readers adore Bonus Scenes.
Final Thought
Everyone must learn their own process and lean into it to bring their stories into being. For some, that learning journey is the hardest part of being a writer.
You might be part of the triple threat writing process variety pack I mentioned at the top of this post, or a quirky Quilter like me, but I hope you experiment until you discover what gets you to “The End.” Your process doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s.
Whether you’re a Pantser, Plotter, Plantser, or Story Quilter, every single one of us has to embrace our stories one scene at a time.
Jenny Hansen provides brand storytelling, LinkedIn coaching, and copywriting for financial services firms. By night, she writes humor, memoirs, women’s fiction, and short stories. After 20+ years as a corporate trainer, she loves this sit-down-and-work thing. As a co-founder of Writers In the Storm (WITS), Jenny has supported writers since 2010. WITS, recognized by Writer’s Digest as a top website for writers, offers weekly posts on writing craft and inspiration. Jenny is currently revising a memoir about her cancer journey, with a style described as “get busy laughing, or get busy crying.”
Will Remains says
Great post! This is definitely me. I always have a strong gut feel for my story, but can’t outline to save my life. Almost all of my initial scenes end up in the story somewhere, but the order, tone, and details can change as I write and rearrange. This is a great way to envision the process.
Sara Beth says
This used to be me! I used to call it writing the candy scenes where I wrote all the best, sweetest, most exciting scenes first and then went back and filled in the gaps. I actually transitioned away from doing that in the last few years, but this is beautifully depicted and really neat that it’s an actual thing I didn’t even know other famous people did that!
For the last few years, my process mostly involves free-writing for about 1/3 of the story, mostly to test out how far can I go, how much do I really love this story, how much depth does the story have? Then I stop somewhere along the way and sit down and write out a sort-of-outline, and often times that outline changes as I continue to fill in scenes.
Great post thank you for this description!
Jenny Hansen says
You are so very welcome, Sara! I think it’s great that you’ve evolved your process into one that helps you know which stories are important for you to write, and which ones you maybe let go. Bravo to you!
And yes, there are some famous Story Quilters out there. Maybe one day we’ll be on that list!
BECCA PUGLISI says
I’ve never heard of the quilting process, but it makes sense. There are so many different ways to write, and most of them are combinations of other processes. Thanks for the glimpse into how your brain works :).
Jenny Hansen says
I didn’t even know I had ADD until like 10 years ago. My husband and I were talking to a long-time counselor friend and he says (all casual-like), “Well, you know you have ADD, right? I do too. They just didn’t diagnose it all that much when we were young unless you were hyperactive.”
I was like, “NO I DID NOT KNOW THAT.” But it made all kinds of things make sense. It also made me stop beating myself up for my 13 (yes, THIRTEEN) unfinished novels that I’d tried to write like me linear pals. Once I made changes and wrote in tiny out-of-order pieces I started finishing books. It was a revelation for me.
ANGELA ACKERMAN says
Both my kids were recently diagnosed for ADHD, and they are in their mid-late 20’s. Because they didn’t fit the traditional symptoms, this is something I never even considered when they were kids. It makes me wonder about myself and if I have anything, just as it’s very easy for me to fall into procrastination, it takes me a long time to get some things done because I think a lot about how to do them well, and things like that. Scott doesn’t see the point of testing for that now, and I explained to him that it’s worth it sometimes to have a diagnosis because otherwise you just think there’s something wrong with you, something that you should be able to fix but you’re just lazy or uncommitted.
I still haven’t gotten tested, but it is in the back of my mind to do so. And I’m so glad you discovered this about yourself. It’s good to have answers.
Jenny Hansen says
It is worth it, because it’s usually genetic. As we’ve dug deeper, my dad had it AND his brother had it. There is at least one of us from each of them. I have my eye on my kid who is a procrastinator. Not a terrible one, but the tendency is there.
For me, it was important because I stopped beating myself up about how I do (or don’t do) things, and put systems in place to overcome areas where I have poor organizational/executive function. Just like I broke my writing into smaller pieces, I broke ALL the organizational tasks into smaller pieces. It made a difference about how I approach them, and how many of those pieces I can offload to people who are better at it.
ANGELA ACKERMAN says
Smart!
ANGELA ACKERMAN says
This was a super interesting look into how someone else visualizes and writes a story, Jenny – thank you! I didn’t realize this was Diana’s process – that’s so cool. I am definitely a Plantser, I’d say – I know some of the pieces and the destination, but I also need to leave room for interesting stops on the journey. What I love about writing is we can all do it differently and make it work. 🙂
Jenny Hansen says
I’m a Plantser of a Quilter myself. I make a list of all the scenes I know at the beginning (which sometimes includes those key turning points), and make folders for all of them in Scrivener. That way, when I sit down to write, I have a list of places I can go in the story. Sometimes something will come to me all Pantsy-like and I write that one too.
Maybe I’ll do my next post on how structures come into play when you’re a Story Quilter. What do you think?
Lindsey Hobson says
That would be an interesting read! I was wondering if you write the whole scene out or just an idea of what the scene will be? I’ve tried save the cat but tend to be more of a pantser myself.
Jenny Hansen says
Usually for me (having those Plantser tendencies), I make a scene card/folder in Scrivener with the scene idea. A few words like, “Character name 1 & Character name 2 fight in the file room” or “Character name 1 goals for opening scene.”
It’s very loose because I usually have the basic ideas for 5-10 scenes before I’ve started writing the whole story. As I write those early scenes, I start seeing pivotal scenes and big moment scenes that need to be there for goals, motivations, or conflicts and I start making more folders. Every so often in the process, I’ll move those folders around, so they feel more logical, and that will start showing me plot holes, which is a whole new set of folders.
And now I’m going to have to write that post, Lindsay! Because I’ve thought of 5 other ways I trick my unstructured brain into structure. 🙂
Lindsey Hobson says
Thanks for taking the time to answer! I look forward to reading it!
Jenny Hansen says
Angela and Becca, thanks for having me over here on WHW!