Get Down the Bones, Then Fill in the Details

When we look at the skeleton of a human being (or any animal), we can often get the gist of the story. We can look at the knee joints and understand walking; we can look at the delicate bones of the hand and understand gripping. The sizable skull of a human skeleton tells us plenty as well. Looking at the skeleton of something tells us a great deal about structure and function. But it doesn’t tell us many other things; unless, perhaps, you’re an expert paleontologist, you won’t know from looking at a skeleton what the person ate or what his or her personality was. You won’t know about veins, arteries, muscles, the soft tissue and organ that once was encased in those ribs. Skeletons don’t do everything, but they give us a strong suggestion of what goes where. So too do the skeletons of stories, and that’s why it’s important to write a skeleton before you flesh it out.

Write a skeleton for structure.

One of the primary uses of our skeleton is to give our bodies structure. The skeleton of a story primarily gives us this as well; it acts as a loose sketch of beginning, middle, and end, often scene by scene. By beginning with the skeleton of a scene rather than the scene itself, you’ll be able to figure out the necessary movement of a scene. You’ll know that a character must go into this bar, get into a fight, and be thrown out before midnight. You’ll be able to plan out how the arc of this scene will inform your larger story. Rather than getting bogged down in details, focus on what needs to happen scene by scene. You’ll accomplish a great deal more than if you tried for hours to figure out one word choice or interaction.

After the jump: how to use writing skeletons for function.

Write a skeleton for function.

Skeletons don’t only provide the basic outline of plot; they can also help you discover the function of their various parts. You know that you want a character to end up on a bridge in the middle of the night, but you don’t really know why or how. Instead of nervously overloading the scene with detail and dialogue, start by getting your character to the bridge in a few broad strokes. Make the scene move; give us action and tension. By getting down just these skeletal parts of your story, you’ll help yourself discover why your character is at that bridge and how to realistically get him or her there. Structure informs function; and this helps us build a story in the shape of a story rather than in a heap of confused images.

Now flesh it out.

Once you’ve gotten down the skeleton of a story, you can easily return and fill it with those pauses and details that you originally envisioned. A story needs flesh as well as bone to feel full and complete, but it could use that bone first as a way of ensuring it will have the right shape. Next time you are writing a story, try imagining it the way filmmakers think of their movies. They have to think of their creations layer by layer; first get the acting down, then the editing, then the special effects. All of the layers are needed, but one can’t be effectively built until the first is done. Feel free to return to your story and construct it in layers in this way.