Telling a Good Story Takes Spontaneity

Last month we said telling a good story requires preparation. While that’s true, telling a good story also takes spontaneity. My dad still makes for a good example. Not only was he a custom men’s tailor who prepared each day’s work the night before but he could also decide to take us to Italy at the drop of a tailor’s ham. So besides being spontaneous, he was a risk-taker. Writers should be both, too.

Spontaneity can mean doing something spur of the moment or trying something new or different without overthinking it. This is where the writer’s instinct and willingness to explore the unfamiliar come into play. We’ve all had those ah-ha moments for a new story, a twist or turn in our current narrative, having a character do something seemingly out of character, or following the story down an unfamiliar path of setting or events.

These adventures can be fun and inspiring, but there’s a price tag attached to the approach. Taking the road less traveled takes time, energy and the risk of one or more wrong turns. But even rabbit trails can offer writers and readers a new perspective, like a detour along a scenic road. Two common questions about being spontaneous are:

• How do I get rolling?
• How do I know if the path I’ve chosen or the decision I’ve made is the right one?

Here are considerations for both of these queries.

First, to make spontaneity worthwhile, ask yourself these questions:

• What aspect of your story needs a bit of novelty or adventure?
• Where would you, your storyline or one of your characters benefit from taking a risk?
• What aspect of your story have you considered exploring but avoided, and what’s holding you back and why?

As you may have guessed, even spontaneity can take a bit of planning or at least some forethought. But once you’ve primed the pump, don’t overthink it. If writing a new story or scene is daunting, which it often is, give yourself a writing time limit. If an hour is too long, try half an hour or 20 minutes. And rather than contemplate what you’re writing as you’re writing it, just write. When you’re done, read what you’ve written. Before making substantive changes, set it aside, possibly until the following writing session. That way you won’t destroy what spontaneity can do for you—open doors to new places.

The next question is how do I know if what I’ve written works?

Two key elements in answering this query are time and distance:

• Rather than edit what you’ve written the same day you’ve written it, wait until at least your next writing session. Even then, before you edit, read what you’ve written to find what shows up as unexpected. Writers who are more planners than pantsers will be tempted to start fixing. Resist the temptation. Instead, embrace the new and see what benefits the unexpected can bring to your story and your writing.
• Once you’ve had a chance to embrace the new, consider how and where what you’ve written could fit into your project. Could it be part of what you’re already working on, or is it something entirely new. To answer this question, assess whether what you’ve created is substantive enough on its own—whether it has enough scope or the potential for scope. In other words, is there enough there, there?

Sometimes what we’ve created on the fly doesn’t work in its entirety but has elements that could work quite well. For example, you might find a gem of a phrase or a germ of a new narrative thread or character. Either way, just because you can’t use your effort in its entirety doesn’t mean it isn’t beneficial. Even if you don’t use any aspect of what you’ve created exactly as you’ve created it, the fun and freedom of free writing can be liberating. And if you write for a living or with that kind of dedication, this type of exercise can put the joy back into your labor.

I usually tell the writers I work with and who attend my workshops that for every principle we set forth, for every craft element technique we discuss, there is at least one equal and opposite possibility. The key is knowing the elements and how they work. Even then it’s possible to be clueless about what certain craft elements do and still write a great story or one with great potential. That’s the fun and freedom of writing because it’s where discovery happens.

Reference:

• For a great how-to reference on craft in any genre, see Now Write! Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror: Speculative Genre Exercises from Today's Best Writers and Teachers (Now Write! Series), by Laurie Lamson (Editor). Regardless of what genre(s) you write in, you’ll find these insights and exercises fun and freeing.

Happy writing!

Adele Annesi’s SPD bestselling novel is What She Takes Away (Bordighera Press, 2023). She co-authored Now What? The Creative Writer's Guide to Success After the MFA and was managing editor of Southern Literary Review. Her MFA in creative writing is from Fairfield University, and her long-running blog for writers is Word for Words. Her podcast is Adele Annesi on Writing.