Whether they’re plotters or pantsers, there’s one tendency I’ve found many authors (myself included) have in common: we want to write our first drafts from beginning to end, telling every piece the story completely in that first go. It’s a noble objective, but more often than not, I think insisting on total completeness in that first draft leads to blocks that take a lot of the joy (and thus the momentum) out of our writing.
If that sounds familiar to you, I want to propose an alternative approach. Have you tried writing in layers? The first time a client ever described her writing process this way, I had trouble picturing it. What would “writing in layers” look like? Sure enough, though, this client writes her nonfiction in layers. She starts with a functional layer: the structure and main points of the piece. All the information in its most basic form. Then, through several revision passes, she adds the artistic layer—the imagery, the sensory details, the turns of phrase that make up her style and turn that “just the facts” first draft into an engaging and informative essay or book chapter. (I’ve also talked about her process as papier mâché.)
I have another client who writes fiction in layers. When he sends me his chapters, they always have the key pieces intact: plot points, character objectives, obstacles, etc. But they also frequently have passages that look like this: “Figure out how to make this interesting.” Or, “Something happens here based on what I decide to do with the next scene.” Or even, “kdfhagha nfdjfofig af hgan aojgio agaej.”
As a writer who frequently finds herself letting perfection be the enemy of progress, I really admire these “layered” approaches that allow the first draft to be messy and incomplete. By focusing only on getting the framework and key pieces in place first, I think these authors empower themselves up to put the story down on the page in a much more complete way—and, I suspect, a much stronger foundation in terms of plot progression, character motivation, etc.—than many of us manage to do when we labor over every nuance and detail from page 1 to the end.
Learning to Write in Layers
The first step, to me feels like giving up a bit of control. When I run into blocks, my instinct is to wrestle with them until I “figure them out.” (“Figuring it out” usually means forcing something onto the page that likely doesn’t work and will need significant rewrites later anyway.) But if I remind myself that this instinct is really just my lofty goal of a perfect first draft talking, then I can allow myself to skip the tough part and move onto the next section in order to keep the story moving (and keep the writing fun).
If it’s a big confrontation scene I’m not ready to write yet, then I might just write something like this:
Harper and Will fight over Marjorie’s belongings. Harper is left feeling lower than low. Details to come.
It’s not easy (for me at least) to leave a scene unfinished like this, but I know that, once I’ve written the next few—including the aftermath of the big fight—I’ll be able to come back to this one with a clearer perspective on what needs to happen to get my characters where they’re going. Once I’ve got the skeleton of the story all put together, I’ll go back and fill out the rest.
Give it a try, yourself. Next time you hit a wall in your work in progress, just hop over it. Leave yourself a little placeholder for your next pass, and keep moving forward to get that story down on the page.