Over time, one of the huge challenges writers have to face are blockages. These are often born of past failures and/or exhaustion. We run ourselves up to a wall and we’re unable to continue on. As it’s thirty years and counting in my writing journey, I’m always looking for new ways to engage and new ways to stay connected to writing.

Outlines are amazing functional tools that have been invaluable in moving me through the process of developing a book and testing out a concept. Yet, now I’m being called to experiment with writing books outside of fiction and personal essays. I’m dipping my toe into writing about spiritual practices. I feel way less confident about this type of work because it draws on a side of me that I tend to keep protected from public—and I’m not expert in the field. It’s also a new experience to even craft text on spiritual topics.

For my introduction into writing in this new field, I decided to approach my first book without outlining. I thought that the process of trying to make a plan and create an outline would squash any energy or motivation I had to tackle the project. So instead of outlining, I listed three themes that covered the main concepts I wanted to address. I decided I’d dedicate each writing session to one of the themes. During each session, I committed to writing ten short passages on the theme of the day. I stayed on each theme for multiple sessions, giving myself time to feel that I had completely covered each theme.

Because creativity is organic, working on the themes brought additional concepts to mind. My plan expanded as I wrote, as I threw in introductory concepts and bridging concepts to make sure I mentioned every relevant concept I could think of for each theme. As I built the text, I didn’t try to make it all fit together, make sense, or have a cohesive flow. I just focused on getting ten short passages on the themes for each writing session. Today, I completed the process! I covered my main thematic buckets, plus a few more that sprang up. I’ve completed a no-plan first draft.

My next step is to print out the pages and look for themes and flow. I have a sense that I’ll keep some writing, throw out some writing, and edit some writing to enhance fit. I’m sure I’ll also be writing new text to serve as connective tissue. There’s some benefit to this chaotic and improvisational way of writing. I don’t have to ever stare directly into the face of what I’m doing. LOL. In a sense, I don’t need answers. I just need to surrender to what emerges. My job is to keep a tight hold on the process and let the work just squiggle around as it wants to.

You may be wondering, would this work for fiction? I have great news for you, it would! I myself have never written fiction this way. I’ve written stories with no plan many times before, but I wrote them in chronological order of the plot as it came together in my mind. I have never taken this quilt-work process of writing to themes in an unconnected fashion but an author I met at a conference works this way. When she shared her process I was fascinated. When she’s ready to start a new novel, she thinks of a minimum of three core characters. She writes descriptions of their personalities and characteristics—which are subject to change as the work evolves. Then she starts writing scenes throwing the characters together just to see what will happen. She takes turns, choosing two characters to put together in a scene. When she gets to the end of that scene, she writes another completely unconnected scene. She keeps going like that until she explores all the dynamics of those two characters. And she doesn’t do this in a linear fashion either. She may work on a scene between character A and character B, then a scene between character B and C. Then she may throw all three into a scene together.

Through this process, she lets the scenes guide the story. As she writes encounters between characters, tensions, conflict, and plot lines emerge. She goes on this way, letting the story build organically until she has a hefty amount of scenes. Then she goes back and sees what she has. Through her review, she starts to build the chronological storytelling.

I was gobsmacked when I heard this way of working. I thought it sounded wild and chaotic. Now, I’m intrigued. I’m starting to understand the power of surrender—of not knowing where you’re going and letting the work tell you what it wants to be. That’s the dream in creative work—for the creator to move to the side and let the work drive the train. As I build my ability to surrender, I’m moving closer to being a writer who can try different ways of developing text. Having a facility with different styles of writing is essential because as writers, we evolve over time. The same way of writing doesn’t work for us forever—and it doesn’t work for every idea. If you’re struggling with a story, perhaps it’s time to take a step back and try a more chaotic way of working, but one that lets the work shine.

Onward,

—K.