Brian Yansky's Blog

 Chapter 10: The Second Draft - Bringing the Story into Focus

With the major structural issues addressed, it's time for your second draft. This is often where your novel starts to feel like a real book rather than a collection of scenes.

The second draft is your opportunity to refine the entire manuscript with the incredible advantage of knowing the complete story. When you wrote the first draft, you were discovering. Now you're shaping with purpose.

Think of it this way: your first draft was like walking through a forest at night with a flashlight, seeing only what was directly in front of you. Now you have a map of the entire forest. You can see which paths connect, where the dead ends are, and how to create the most compelling journey.

Here's how to approach your second draft:

Start at the Beginning: Unlike the targeted revisions of your major renovation phase, the second draft means going through your entire manuscript from page one. You're creating a cohesive reading experience.

The Through-Line: With your complete story in mind, strengthen the narrative thread that pulls readers from beginning to end. Every scene should connect to this through-line, either advancing the plot, developing characters, or building your world in ways that matter to the outcome.

Foreshadowing and Payoff: You know  your story now. You can look for places to Reverse Engineer.  You can create foreshadowing. For example, let’s say you know that on page 88 the two main characters kiss. SO you want to lead the reader to this important moment in the development of their relationship by some progression. You can create foreshadowing for the reader because of what you know will happen later in the novel The Art of Setups and Payoffs: Make a list of every major reveal, twist, or climactic moment in your story. Then ensure each has adequate setup. Conversely, check that every setup has a satisfying payoff. Readers notice when you promise something and don't deliver.

Strengthening Character Arcs: Ensure your characters' growth (or deliberate lack thereof) follows a convincing progression. Now that you know who they become by the end, you can make their journey there more believable and compelling.

Finding the Balance Between Showing and Telling: Discovery writers often switch between showing and telling somewhat randomly in first drafts. In your second draft, make strategic choices:

Show (through scene, dialogue, and action) when:

·       A moment has emotional significance

·       An interaction changes a relationship

·       A character makes an important decision

·       Something happens that changes the course of the story

Tell (through summary and exposition) when:

·       You're bridging between important scenes

·       You need to convey background information quickly

·       The details would be repetitive or unnecessary

·       You're intentionally creating distance for stylistic reasons

·       CONTRARY, to the advice of many writing books you do not always need to show rather than tell…

Pacing Adjustments: Modify the rhythm of your story by expanding important moments and condensing less crucial ones. Add scenes where the story moves too quickly for emotional impact. Trim or cut scenes where the energy drags.

Consistency Check: Ensure details remain consistent throughout—character descriptions, abilities, timelines, settings, rules of your world. What was nebulous in your first draft must become concrete now.

Strengthening Beginnings and Endings: Pay special attention to chapter beginnings and endings. Each chapter opening should raise a question or create tension that propels readers forward. Each ending should satisfy while prompting readers to continue.

The Language Layer: While you're not focusing primarily on line-by-line prose yet, start shaping your novel's voice more consistently. If certain passages sing while others fall flat, begin bringing everything up to your best standard.

Cut Mercilessly: Most first drafts are too long, not too short. Be ruthless about cutting:

·       Scenes that duplicate the same purpose or emotional beat

·       Extended passages where nothing changes

·       Clever writing that doesn't serve the story

·       Characters who could be combined or eliminated

·       Subplots that don't connect meaningfully to the main story

I always challenge myself to cut at least 10% from my first draft, and I've never regretted a single cut once the manuscript was finished.

The Read-Aloud Test: As you revise each chapter, read portions aloud. Your ear will catch problems your eye misses—awkward phrasing, repetitive sentence structures, dialogue that doesn't sound natural.

What if you're still discovering significant aspects of your story during this draft? That's normal for discovery writers. The second draft often reveals deeper layers of meaning and connection. Remain open to these discoveries while maintaining focus on creating a cohesive whole.

By the end of your second draft, your novel should have:

·       A clear, compelling narrative arc

·       Consistent, developing characters

·       Logical plot progression

·       Appropriate pacing and tension

·       A cohesive thematic resonance

·       A satisfying balance of setup and payoff

Does this mean your novel is ready? Not quite. But it should now be recognizably the book you want it to be, even if it needs further refinement.

The second draft transforms your raw material into a real novel. It brings your story into focus. The remaining drafts are about making that image sharper, clearer, and more vivid.

You're getting there. Keep going.

 Chapter 10: The Second Draft - Bringing the Story into Focus

With the major structural issues addressed, it's time for your second draft. This is often where your novel starts to feel like a real book rather than a collection of scenes.

The second draft is your opportunity to refine the entire manuscript with the incredible advantage of knowing the complete story. When you wrote the first draft, you were discovering. Now you're shaping with purpose.

Think of it this way: your first draft was like walking through a forest at night with a flashlight, seeing only what was directly in front of you. Now you have a map of the entire forest. You can see which paths connect, where the dead ends are, and how to create the most compelling journey.

Here's how to approach your second draft:

Start at the Beginning: Unlike the targeted revisions of your major renovation phase, the second draft means going through your entire manuscript from page one. You're creating a cohesive reading experience.

The Through-Line: With your complete story in mind, strengthen the narrative thread that pulls readers from beginning to end. Every scene should connect to this through-line, either advancing the plot, developing characters, or building your world in ways that matter to the outcome.

Foreshadowing and Payoff: You know  your story now. You can look for places to Reverse Engineer.  You can create foreshadowing. For example, let’s say you know that on page 88 the two main characters kiss. SO you want to lead the reader to this important moment in the development of their relationship by some progression. You can create foreshadowing for the reader because of what you know will happen later in the novel The Art of Setups and Payoffs: Make a list of every major reveal, twist, or climactic moment in your story. Then ensure each has adequate setup. Conversely, check that every setup has a satisfying payoff. Readers notice when you promise something and don't deliver.

Strengthening Character Arcs: Ensure your characters' growth (or deliberate lack thereof) follows a convincing progression. Now that you know who they become by the end, you can make their journey there more believable and compelling.

Finding the Balance Between Showing and Telling: Discovery writers often switch between showing and telling somewhat randomly in first drafts. In your second draft, make strategic choices:

Show (through scene, dialogue, and action) when:

·       A moment has emotional significance

·       An interaction changes a relationship

·       A character makes an important decision

·       Something happens that changes the course of the story

Tell (through summary and exposition) when:

·       You're bridging between important scenes

·       You need to convey background information quickly

·       The details would be repetitive or unnecessary

·       You're intentionally creating distance for stylistic reasons

·       CONTRARY, to the advice of many writing books you do not always need to show rather than tell…

Pacing Adjustments: Modify the rhythm of your story by expanding important moments and condensing less crucial ones. Add scenes where the story moves too quickly for emotional impact. Trim or cut scenes where the energy drags.

Consistency Check: Ensure details remain consistent throughout—character descriptions, abilities, timelines, settings, rules of your world. What was nebulous in your first draft must become concrete now.

Strengthening Beginnings and Endings: Pay special attention to chapter beginnings and endings. Each chapter opening should raise a question or create tension that propels readers forward. Each ending should satisfy while prompting readers to continue.

The Language Layer: While you're not focusing primarily on line-by-line prose yet, start shaping your novel's voice more consistently. If certain passages sing while others fall flat, begin bringing everything up to your best standard.

Cut Mercilessly: Most first drafts are too long, not too short. Be ruthless about cutting:

·       Scenes that duplicate the same purpose or emotional beat

·       Extended passages where nothing changes

·       Clever writing that doesn't serve the story

·       Characters who could be combined or eliminated

·       Subplots that don't connect meaningfully to the main story

I always challenge myself to cut at least 10% from my first draft, and I've never regretted a single cut once the manuscript was finished.

The Read-Aloud Test: As you revise each chapter, read portions aloud. Your ear will catch problems your eye misses—awkward phrasing, repetitive sentence structures, dialogue that doesn't sound natural.

What if you're still discovering significant aspects of your story during this draft? That's normal for discovery writers. The second draft often reveals deeper layers of meaning and connection. Remain open to these discoveries while maintaining focus on creating a cohesive whole.

By the end of your second draft, your novel should have:

·       A clear, compelling narrative arc

·       Consistent, developing characters

·       Logical plot progression

·       Appropriate pacing and tension

·       A cohesive thematic resonance

·       A satisfying balance of setup and payoff

Does this mean your novel is ready? Not quite. But it should now be recognizably the book you want it to be, even if it needs further refinement.

The second draft transforms your raw material into a real novel. It brings your story into focus. The remaining drafts are about making that image sharper, clearer, and more vivid.

You're getting there. Keep going.

 Step  9: Major Renovations - Tackling Big Problems First

Now you’re staring at your list of problems and thinking, “My God, this is hopeless.” It’s not. I promise. What you need is a renovation strategy that addresses the foundation before you start picking the colors you want to paint the bedrooms.

Honestly, for me revision is where I have the most fun with writing. I mean, the discovery process in the first draft is exciting and often exhilarating when things come together and frustrating and worrying when they don’t.

But in revision you get to really dig into the manuscript and identify problems and fix those problems. You also get to refine ideas, scenes, characters that were a little blurry in the first draft. It’s a chance to bring your whole story into focus. Finally, you get to work on really making your sentences sharp and worthy of your story. Mark Twain said the difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug. You get it. In revision, you get an opportunity that we don't always get in life: second, third, fourth chances.

For me, I revise two or three times and then go over a fourth time for grammar and polish. Each revision takes less time than the previous one for me.

***

The most common approach is to begin with the big problems and end with the small. Structure before scenes. Scenes before sentences. If you start polishing prose in a chapter you might end up cutting entirely, you’re wasting precious time and energy.

Big problems typically fall into a few categories. You need to address these in your first revision.

Structural Problems: Maybe your novel starts too slowly. Or the middle sags like a worn-out mattress. Or the ending comes out of nowhere. These are foundational issues that affect the entire book. Identify them and know that these will take some time to correct.

Character Arcs: Perhaps your protagonist doesn’t change meaningfully over the course of the story. Or their decisions don’t drive the plot. Or they’re simply not compelling enough to carry a novel. You’ve got to see this even if you love your characters. See them for who they are. If you find a weakness, find a way to improve it.

Plot Logic: The story might contain significant holes, contradictions, or a deus ex machina (those convenient coincidences that solve problems too easily).

Stakes and Tension: Maybe the conflict isn’t compelling enough, or the consequences of failure aren’t clear or meaningful.

Here’s how to tackle these big issues without getting overwhelmed:

Create a Revision Plan: List your major problems in order of priority. Structural issues usually come first because fixing them often solves character and plot problems automatically. Be specific about what needs fixing and why.

The Scene List: Create a simple list of every scene in your novel with a one-sentence description of what happens and why it matters. This bird’s-eye view makes structural problems more obvious. Too many scenes with the same purpose? A character who disappears for 100 pages? A subplot that goes nowhere? You’ll see it.

Do you have several scenes doing the same thing? Cut the redundancy. Your manuscript will be stronger.

The chapter-by-chapter outline: For more complex revisions, create a detailed outline of your existing manuscript. For each chapter, note the key events, character developments, reveals, and emotional beats. Then, create a parallel outline of how the revised version should look. This gives you a roadmap for reconstruction.

The Character Journey Map: For character problems, track your protagonist’s emotional state, beliefs, and goals at key points in the story. Where does their arc stall or contradict itself? Where do they need stronger reactions to events in the plot? This map highlights where character development needs work.

The “Why” Chain: For plot logic issues, create a chain of cause and effect. Each major event should have a clear cause (“This happened because...”) and consequence (“Which led to...”). Notice I wrote major events. Not every event needs a cause-and-effect chain, but your major ones do.

Targeted Rewrites: Instead of revising the entire manuscript at once, focus on specific sections that need major work. This will make your revision faster.

The “Zero Draft” Technique: For truly problematic sections, try rewriting them from scratch without looking at your first draft. You might try writing a few sentences to discover what you want to do in the scene. Then rewrite the scene.

The Cut-and-Keep File: Create a separate document for material you cut. Nothing is truly deleted—it’s just set aside. Sometimes this is a good way to allow you to cut without getting emotional about the loss. It’s not a loss. It’s just a relocation.

What about those sections you know need work but aren’t sure how to fix? Try these approaches:

The “What If?” Game: Brainstorm three radically different ways the section could play out. One may be right. If none is right, one might spark an idea.

The Purpose Test: Ask what this section needs to accomplish for the story. Is there a more effective, interesting way to achieve that purpose?

The Character-Driven Solution: When plot problems seem intractable, let character guide you. What would this specific character actually do in this situation, based on everything we know about them?

The Reader Question: What question does the reader have at this point in the story? What answer would be both satisfying and surprising?

The biggest challenge during major renovations is maintaining momentum. Revision can feel endless, especially when you’re restructuring significant portions of your novel. To avoid revision fatigue:

Set Concrete Goals: “Today I’ll rewrite the confrontation scene” is better than “Today I’ll work on the manuscript.”

Celebrate Milestones: Acknowledge progress when you solve a major problem. These victories fuel further work.

Remember, you don’t need to fix everything at once. The goal of this phase is to address the fundamental problems that would make more detailed revision pointless. Once your structure is solid, your characters consistent, and your plot logical, you’re ready for the comprehensive second revision.

Revision number one is still a bit messy, but it will clarify your story, especially for the discovery writer. This is where discovery writers often work out their story. Embrace that. The novel you end up with might be quite different from what you first imagined. That’s okay. In fact, it probably is you finding your best story.

Major renovations take courage. You might need to cut your favorite scenes, rewrite entire chapters, or even change your ending. Trust that these big changes will make your novel better.

I find that I do a lot of demolition and a lot of renovation in revision, especially in the first revision.

 Chapter 8:  Revision (time to shift gears) : Evaluating Draft One/ Checking the structure

Congratulations! You've completed your first draft. That puts you ahead of about 95% of people who want to write a novel. Take a moment to appreciate what you've accomplished.

Now, put your manuscript in a drawer and don't look at it for a few days. I’ll often let it sit a week. Some say you need a few weeks or even a month. I don’t have the time for that. Or the patience. You do need to try and create distance between your writing of your first draft and revision though

I do agree that if you just go back to the beginning and start revising your manuscript, you won’t have the distance to flip that switch you need to flip to analyze/edit for revision. You’ll often get stuck just changing words here and there or details. You need a broader look at the manuscript to have an effective revision.

Go back and look at your notes and work through any messages you had for yourself. Also if you have places where you used the placeholder summary, now go ahead and try to write those scenes. It will be easier now that you have a full manuscript with a beginning, middle and end. If you know of a chapter that is weak, go work on that. What you’re doing here is shoring up the first draft a little. This might take you a few days or maybe a week.

When you come back, approach your manuscript as a reader, not its writer. Print it out if possible, or transfer it to an e-reader—anything to make it look different from how you saw it while writing. Read it straight through without making corrections, just taking occasional notes

This first read-through isn't about fixing anything once you’ve done your touching up of draft one and let the manuscript sit for a couple of days or week. It's about seeing what you actually wrote. Not what you thought you were writing. The two are rarely the same, especially for discovery writers. 

As you read, you'll notice problems. Lots of them. This is normal and good. Finding problems means you're developing the critical eye needed for effective revision. Here's what to look for:

Structural Issues

The big picture stuff. Does your story have a clear beginning, middle, and end? Does it build logically from one event to the next? Are there sections that drag or feel rushed? Is there a satisfying arc of tension and release?

Many discovery writers find their true beginning several chapters into the draft. Often, those first few chapters were you, the writer, figuring out the story. Readers don't need to watch you warm up.

Similarly, you might find your ending comes too abruptly or drags on too long. Mark these sections but don't fix them yet—just identify where the structure needs work.

Character Inconsistencies

Discovery writers often find their understanding of characters evolves during drafting. The Sarah in chapter twenty might be quite different from the Sarah in chapter two.

Note these inconsistencies without judgment. They're not failures; they're discoveries about who your character truly is. Later, you'll decide which version to keep and revise accordingly.

Pay special attention to motivation. Do your characters' actions make sense given what we know about them? If not, you'll need to either change the actions or deepen the characterization to make them believable.

Plot Holes and Logic Problems

How did your character know information you never showed them learning? Why didn't they use the magical ability in chapter five that would have solved the problem in chapter twelve? How did winter turn to summer in what was supposed to be a week of story time?

These continuity errors are the discovery writer's special curse. List them all. Some will be easy fixes; others might require major restructuring.

The "But Why?" Test

For key plot points, ask "But why?" If you can't answer clearly, you've found a weakness. Why did the villain kidnap the hero's sister? Why did the protagonist quit her job? If your answer is "because I needed it for the plot," you likely have a problem.

The Missing Scenes

Discovery writers often find they've skipped crucial scenes—moments that need to be shown but were bypassed. Maybe you jumped from the argument directly to the reconciliation without showing how the characters got there. Note where these gaps exist.

The Unnecessary Scenes

Conversely, discovery writing produces scenes that may not earn their keep. Often these happen because you the writer are trying to understand some aspect of the story or develop character. These can likely be cut for the reader.

Theme and Meaning

What is your novel actually about beneath the plot? What patterns, images, or ideas keep recurring? Discovery writers often find their themes emerge organically during drafting. Identifying these themes will help you focus on using them in the best ways to improve your manuscript.

How do you organize all these observations without getting overwhelmed? Break them down into categories.

Major Reconstruction: Fundamental problems requiring significant rewriting. "The middle section has no tension." "The protagonist's motivation makes no sense." "The ending contradicts what we know about the character." 

Notable Issues: Specific problems that need addressing but don't require rebuilding entire sections. "The best friend disappears for 100 pages." "The subplot about the neighbor never connects to the main story." These usually require additions.

Minor Fixes: Small continuity errors, inconsistent details, etc. "Eye color changes from blue to brown." "Character mentions a sister who never appears."

Focus first on understanding the major reconstruction needed. The minor stuff is easy to fix once the foundation is solid.

One warning: this evaluation phase can be emotionally brutal. You'll wonder how you didn't notice these problems while writing. You'll question your ability. You'll contemplate burning the manuscript and becoming a pig farmer or dog trainer or….

This is normal. Every novelist goes through it. Even the really good writers don’t get everything right on the first try.

Finding problems is not a sign of failure either. Ah contraire, it’s a sign of growth. Your ability to see these issues means you're developing the critical skills necessary to become a better writer.

Also as a discovery writer your first draft is going to wander and it’s going to be messy and disorganized in places. Expect this. Embrace it. Now you have the chance to revise and rework it and make it the best novel you can.

ALSO:

I'm publishing a short book on these 12 steps to Building A Novel, including some bonus material. It's on Amazon on preorder, pub date Oct. 9. I've revised some of what you've read but not extensively. I will continue to post the steps here until I've posted them all. 

The amazon book will be available in ebook and paperback, so if you want a copy to keep, you can get it here:

 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FSHQ9QF1?ref_=pe_93986420_775043100

Here's the beginning—

About Me: 

I have an MFA in Writing, and I taught creative writing at the college level for a decade, but these aren’t why I think my book on writing can help you become a better writer. It’s because I’ve written well over a million words and plan to write many, many more. I love to write. I’m a writer. That’s why.

I’ve had five novels trad published and won a few awards and sold a few copies. I’ve written another twenty plus novels as an independent writer. My Strangely Scary Funny series has sold copies into the six figures. I know how to write novels. I'll do my best to give you some tools that will help you build your own novel. This is a short book crammed full of advice that will take you from ideas to begin your novel to those last two words at the end which are, oddly enough, THE END.

  Besides the 12 steps to writing a novel, I’ve included bonus sections on what not to do, character creation and development, and a little encouragement section. Writing a novel is tough. No use pretending otherwise. But it is fun, engaging, and you may find that it’s a positive addiction you can enjoy over a lifetime. With a bit of luck, you might even earn some cash or win awards or accomplish whatever your specific goals are.

I wish you a bit of luck. You’re a writer if you write. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

INTRODUCTION

12 Steps To Building A Novel: Especially For Discovery (Pantsers, same thing) Writers  

You don’t need an outline but you do need the right tools.

Here's the truth: you don't need an outline to write a novel. What you need is courage and determination. The process you use to find your way isn’t all that important. Outline, don’t outline. Find what works for you and do that.

However, I’m here for the discovery writers because that’s my process. I’m going to try to tell you how to build a novel. Hope it helps.

My dad was a builder of homes. He had a regular job working for the post-office but his passion was building houses. While working full-time at the post-office, he’d build two or three houses a year. 

I can remember him taking me to lots he’d bought and telling me what kind of house was going to be built there. Empty lot one day. Foundation poured the next. Then weeks and months passed and the frame, the walls, the roof. Then the inside of the house: plumbing, appliances, electricity, paint and so on.  Eventually, a house was built to be lived in.

“If you build it they will come” is an oft-used quote from the movie Field of Dreams. Sadly, that’s not always the case, but if you build it you have a chance that they will come. If you don’t, you just have an empty lot.

 Chapter 8:  Revision (time to shift gears) : Evaluating Draft One/ Checking the structure

Congratulations! You've completed your first draft. That puts you ahead of about 95% of people who want to write a novel. Take a moment to appreciate what you've accomplished.

Now, put your manuscript in a drawer and don't look at it for a few days. I’ll often let it sit a week. Some say you need a few weeks or even a month. I don’t have the time for that. Or the patience. You do need to try and create distance between your writing of your first draft and revision though

I do agree that if you just go back to the beginning and start revising your manuscript, you won’t have the distance to flip that switch you need to flip to analyze/edit for revision. You’ll often get stuck just changing words here and there or details. You need a broader look at the manuscript to have an effective revision.

Go back and look at your notes and work through any messages you had for yourself. Also if you have places where you used the placeholder summary, now go ahead and try to write those scenes. It will be easier now that you have a full manuscript with a beginning, middle and end. If you know of a chapter that is weak, go work on that. What you’re doing here is shoring up the first draft a little. This might take you a few days or maybe a week.

When you come back, approach your manuscript as a reader, not its writer. Print it out if possible, or transfer it to an e-reader—anything to make it look different from how you saw it while writing. Read it straight through without making corrections, just taking occasional notes

This first read-through isn't about fixing anything once you’ve done your touching up of draft one and let the manuscript sit for a couple of days or week. It's about seeing what you actually wrote. Not what you thought you were writing. The two are rarely the same, especially for discovery writers. 

As you read, you'll notice problems. Lots of them. This is normal and good. Finding problems means you're developing the critical eye needed for effective revision. Here's what to look for:

Structural Issues

The big picture stuff. Does your story have a clear beginning, middle, and end? Does it build logically from one event to the next? Are there sections that drag or feel rushed? Is there a satisfying arc of tension and release?

Many discovery writers find their true beginning several chapters into the draft. Often, those first few chapters were you, the writer, figuring out the story. Readers don't need to watch you warm up.

Similarly, you might find your ending comes too abruptly or drags on too long. Mark these sections but don't fix them yet—just identify where the structure needs work.

Character Inconsistencies

Discovery writers often find their understanding of characters evolves during drafting. The Sarah in chapter twenty might be quite different from the Sarah in chapter two.

Note these inconsistencies without judgment. They're not failures; they're discoveries about who your character truly is. Later, you'll decide which version to keep and revise accordingly.

Pay special attention to motivation. Do your characters' actions make sense given what we know about them? If not, you'll need to either change the actions or deepen the characterization to make them believable.

Plot Holes and Logic Problems

How did your character know information you never showed them learning? Why didn't they use the magical ability in chapter five that would have solved the problem in chapter twelve? How did winter turn to summer in what was supposed to be a week of story time?

These continuity errors are the discovery writer's special curse. List them all. Some will be easy fixes; others might require major restructuring.

The "But Why?" Test

For key plot points, ask "But why?" If you can't answer clearly, you've found a weakness. Why did the villain kidnap the hero's sister? Why did the protagonist quit her job? If your answer is "because I needed it for the plot," you likely have a problem.

The Missing Scenes

Discovery writers often find they've skipped crucial scenes—moments that need to be shown but were bypassed. Maybe you jumped from the argument directly to the reconciliation without showing how the characters got there. Note where these gaps exist.

The Unnecessary Scenes

Conversely, discovery writing produces scenes that may not earn their keep. Often these happen because you the writer are trying to understand some aspect of the story or develop character. These can likely be cut for the reader.

Theme and Meaning

What is your novel actually about beneath the plot? What patterns, images, or ideas keep recurring? Discovery writers often find their themes emerge organically during drafting. Identifying these themes will help you focus on using them in the best ways to improve your manuscript.

How do you organize all these observations without getting overwhelmed? Break them down into categories.

Major Reconstruction: Fundamental problems requiring significant rewriting. "The middle section has no tension." "The protagonist's motivation makes no sense." "The ending contradicts what we know about the character." 

Notable Issues: Specific problems that need addressing but don't require rebuilding entire sections. "The best friend disappears for 100 pages." "The subplot about the neighbor never connects to the main story." These usually require additions.

Minor Fixes: Small continuity errors, inconsistent details, etc. "Eye color changes from blue to brown." "Character mentions a sister who never appears."

Focus first on understanding the major reconstruction needed. The minor stuff is easy to fix once the foundation is solid.

One warning: this evaluation phase can be emotionally brutal. You'll wonder how you didn't notice these problems while writing. You'll question your ability. You'll contemplate burning the manuscript and becoming a pig farmer or dog trainer or….

This is normal. Every novelist goes through it. Even the really good writers don’t get everything right on the first try.

Finding problems is not a sign of failure either. Ah contraire, it’s a sign of growth. Your ability to see these issues means you're developing the critical skills necessary to become a better writer.

Also as a discovery writer your first draft is going to wander and it’s going to be messy and disorganized in places. Expect this. Embrace it. Now you have the chance to revise and rework it and make it the best novel you can.

ALSO:

I'm publishing a short book on these 12 steps to Building A Novel, including some bonus material. It's on Amazon on preorder, pub date Oct. 9. I've revised some of what you've read but not extensively. I will continue to post the steps here until I've posted them all. 

The amazon book will be available in ebook and paperback, so if you want a copy to keep, you can get it here:

 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FSHQ9QF1?ref_=pe_93986420_775043100

Here's the beginning—

About Me: 

I have an MFA in Writing, and I taught creative writing at the college level for a decade, but these aren’t why I think my book on writing can help you become a better writer. It’s because I’ve written well over a million words and plan to write many, many more. I love to write. I’m a writer. That’s why.

I’ve had five novels trad published and won a few awards and sold a few copies. I’ve written another twenty plus novels as an independent writer. My Strangely Scary Funny series has sold copies into the six figures. I know how to write novels. I'll do my best to give you some tools that will help you build your own novel. This is a short book crammed full of advice that will take you from ideas to begin your novel to those last two words at the end which are, oddly enough, THE END.

  Besides the 12 steps to writing a novel, I’ve included bonus sections on what not to do, character creation and development, and a little encouragement section. Writing a novel is tough. No use pretending otherwise. But it is fun, engaging, and you may find that it’s a positive addiction you can enjoy over a lifetime. With a bit of luck, you might even earn some cash or win awards or accomplish whatever your specific goals are.

I wish you a bit of luck. You’re a writer if you write. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

INTRODUCTION

12 Steps To Building A Novel: Especially For Discovery (Pantsers, same thing) Writers  

You don’t need an outline but you do need the right tools.

Here's the truth: you don't need an outline to write a novel. What you need is courage and determination. The process you use to find your way isn’t all that important. Outline, don’t outline. Find what works for you and do that.

However, I’m here for the discovery writers because that’s my process. I’m going to try to tell you how to build a novel. Hope it helps.

My dad was a builder of homes. He had a regular job working for the post-office but his passion was building houses. While working full-time at the post-office, he’d build two or three houses a year. 

I can remember him taking me to lots he’d bought and telling me what kind of house was going to be built there. Empty lot one day. Foundation poured the next. Then weeks and months passed and the frame, the walls, the roof. Then the inside of the house: plumbing, appliances, electricity, paint and so on.  Eventually, a house was built to be lived in.

“If you build it they will come” is an oft-used quote from the movie Field of Dreams. Sadly, that’s not always the case, but if you build it you have a chance that they will come. If you don’t, you just have an empty lot.

 Step 7: Discovery Writers in step 7 Discover Their Ending

You’ve survived the middle. You can see daylight. But now comes another challenge for discovery writers: how do you end this thing?

Endings are tricky for all novelists, but especially for those of us who work without a roadmap. You’ve been following breadcrumbs through the forest, and now you need to find your way home—a home you haven’t actually seen yet.

The good news? By this point, your story knows what it wants to be. Your characters have revealed their true natures. The themes have emerged. Your job now is to listen to what your draft is telling you and find the ending that feels inevitable yet surprising.

Sure, you say, but what does that mean? It means you have set up a series of events and character development and development of setting that are leading your characters to an inevitable ending. Follow it.

The first rule for discovery writers, as I have said repeatedly, is finish your draft. An imperfect ending that you can revise is infinitely better than a perfect ending that exists only in your head. Give yourself permission to write an ending that’s “good enough for now.”

How do you know what your ending should be? Start by asking these questions:

What has your protagonist learned? The ending should demonstrate how your character has been changed in some way through the events of the story and his or her own growth or transformation.

What promises did your beginning make? If you opened with a mystery, it should be solved. If you began with a character wanting something, they should either get it or discover they wanted the wrong thing all along. In other words, discover something, learn something, through failing that gives the story meaning.

What would feel emotionally satisfying? Logic matters less than emotional truth in endings. What would give readers the emotional closure they need, even if some plot threads remain loose?

When I’m struggling to find my ending, I’ll often go back to the first few chapters and look for clues I left myself without realizing it at the time. Or maybe an offhand observation can lead you to a satisfying ending.

Discovery writers frequently find that their endings were hiding in plain sight all along. Trust the groundwork your subconscious has been laying.

Fiction writing is always a mix of conscious and subconscious decisions. You can write something you don’t quite understand but feel is right. That something might lead you to a clear understanding of your theme later, especially in revision when the EDITOR part of your brain takes over.

Some practical approaches when the ending eludes you are the following:

Write multiple endings: Draft two or three different conclusions to your story. Sometimes the act of writing one ending clarifies why a different ending would work better.

The cinematic approach: Visualize your ending as a series of images. What’s the final scene that would stay with readers? Work backward from there.

Ask the “what if?” question: What if the villain won? What if your protagonist failed but found something more valuable? What if the external goal turned out to be a distraction from what really matters to the character internally?

Follow emotional arcs to their conclusion: If your character started fearful, where might courage lead them? If they began selfish, how would newfound empathy change their choices?

How do you know when you’ve reached “the end” of draft one? When the primary problem of the story has been resolved or transformed in a meaningful way. When your protagonist has completed their emotional journey, for better or worse. When the central question of your novel has been answered. You may not know all these things. Or you may find out in revision that you can deepen the groundwork you’ve laid.

Your ending doesn’t need to tie up every loose end. In fact, some of the most powerful endings leave certain threads for readers to ponder. But the central promise of your story needs fulfillment.

What about those stubborn stories that resist ending? We’ve all been there—250 pages in and still no clear conclusion in sight. When this happens, it’s usually because:

1.     You’re afraid to finish because then you’ll have to face revision.

2.     You’ve got too many plot threads and can’t resolve them all.

3.     You never clarified what your story was truly about.

For the first problem, set a deadline and stick to it. For the second, decide which threads matter most and focus on resolving those. Understand you may need to do serious cutting in revision. For the third, go back to your foundation—what was the core of this story? End there. Again, you may have to guess at your core in draft one. That’s fine. You’ll figure it out in revision.

Remember: first-draft endings are rarely perfect. Mine certainly aren’t. I’ve written “placeholder” endings just to get to the finish line, knowing I’ll completely rewrite them later.

Let me emphasize once again that a first draft is a beginning and not an end. It is an accomplishment. You have proven to yourself that you can write an entire novel from beginning to end.

So, write your ending. Make it as good as you can with what you know right now. Then type those magical words: “The End.”

Celebrate! You’ve done something remarkable.

Let me make one last important point (again) before we move on to Revision: This is, I think, an essential part of being a discovery writer. You have to have faith in your ability to find your way without a map. You have to have faith in your subconscious and your ability to make connections that will lead you to other connections in revision. As a discovery writer, it’s important you don’t try to edit when you’re writing the first draft. Let me explain. It’s all very scientific. Your brain will get in the way of your brain. Terrible when that happens. Your wild creative story-making brain cannot run free when the nagging editor brain starts criticizing. They start to argue. They really go at it. You get lost or stuck or worse.

You’ve got to run wild in draft 1. Then, in revision your analytical (editorial) self must take over and look for problems and ways to generally and specifically improve the manuscript. The revision is essential, too. In revision, you must calm the “run wild” part of your brain with practical decisions. Of course there will be a bit of overlap, but work to keep these two separate as much as possible.

Now, as we move into the next phase of building your novel, you’ll need to use the analytical/editorial brain. A first draft is not the true end. It is the end of the first part of your journey (bit of a mixed metaphor here, forgive me) and the beginning of the second.

 Step 6: Discovery Writers: Building Through the Middle & Avoiding Collapse & Devastation

Welcome to the middle of your novel, the place where dreams go to die. Too harsh? Maybe. But the middle is where countless first drafts collapse under their own weight. It’s where that initial burst of inspiration fades, where plot holes become gaping sinkholes, and where you start wondering if you had any business trying to write a novel in the first place.

The good news? Every novelist experiences this. The better news? There are ways through it.

Let’s be honest about what happens in the middle. You’ve written the exciting beginning. Your characters are established. The initial conflict is underway. And now you’re facing the vast expanse of pages between that setup and the climax you might vaguely envision. It’s like looking across the Grand Canyon and trying to figure out how to build a bridge as you walk across.

For discovery writers, this is the ultimate test. Without an outline as your safety net, you’re truly exploring unknown territory in the middle. Here’s some practical advice on how to navigate the middle without your novel collapsing:

Understand the Function of the Middle: The middle isn’t just filler between beginning and end. It’s where your story develops depth and complexity. It’s where characters evolve, relationships transform, and simple problems reveal their true complexity. Embrace this rather than fight it.

Create a “Midpoint Revelation”: Even without knowing your ending, try to engineer a significant revelation or twist around the middle of your book. This creates a pivot point that divides your novel into “before” and “after,” instantly giving structure to that shapeless middle. It might be a new understanding of the problem, a betrayal, a raised stake, or a shift in your character’s goal. However, if you don’t have this, it might also be a place where you mark it up for your revision, with some ideas that you might try in revision.

When I was struggling with the middle of my novel, The Librarian and the Monsters of the Apocalypse, I realized that I needed to develop the larger story—the king taking over the country of America after the apocalypse. I found that developing this aspect of the story helped me realize how my story for the particular novel in the series, fit with that larger plot. I was able to develop both in more detail, and the story deepened and the plot expanded.

The Try/Fail Cycle: One of the simplest ways to generate middle material is the try/fail cycle. I love the try/fail cycle. I’ve used it a lot., Your character tries to solve their problem, fails, faces a new complication, tries again, fails differently. Each attempt should be logical but lead to unexpected results or at least believable ones that push the story forward. This naturally creates escalation and keeps readers engaged on a local level. As always, though the reader needs to feel they’re progressing toward some ultimate ending, so the try/fail needs to be linked to the main plot or a subplot in some way.

Follow the Consequences: When stuck, look back at what’s already happened and ask, “What are the realistic consequences of these events?” Often, you’ve already planted seeds for your next developments without realizing it. That’s discovery writing. Trust your subconscious.

Introduce New but Related Problems: As initial problems move toward resolution, introduce new complications that are organically connected. The detective solves one murder but discovers it’s connected to three more. The couple resolves their misunderstanding but now faces opposition from family. This layering of problems or goals keeps your middle from feeling episodic or repetitive.

Deepen Character Relationships: The middle is where relationships get complicated. You’ve set up some conflicts. Work on developing them in the middle. These might be romantic relationships or friendships or enemies. Conflict is essential to any story. The middle calls for some development of conflict in order to keep the story interesting.

Manipulate Plot : Trap your characters together in a situation they can’t easily escape, physically or metaphorically, that forces conflict and revelation. A snowstorm strands enemies in the same place. A family secret requires estranged siblings to work together to save their parents.

Remember the Subplots: If your main plot is stalling, shift focus to a subplot for a while. This gives you a mental break while still moving the story forward. Often, working on the subplot will illuminate solutions for your main plot.

The Placeholder Scene: When truly stuck, write a bare-bones scene with minimal description. Sometimes a “placeholder” gets you past the block. Later, you’ll replace it with a properly written scene, but for now, it will help you keep momentum.

The List of Ten: When you don’t know what happens next, make a list of ten possibilities—from the obvious to the outlandish. Force yourself to complete the list even when it gets hard. Then use the most compelling option, even if it’s not what you initially expected.

Raise Personal Stakes: The middle is where external conflicts should become deeply personal for your protagonist. What started as a simple job becomes a quest for redemption. A new relationship brings back a childhood trauma. Finding the killer becomes about the narrator facing some demons from his past. Make it personal.

Trust the Process, Trust Yourself: The middle is where a discovery writer has to trust his or her subconscious. Trust your instincts that your subconscious will make mostly the right choices. You will find your way. The time for analysis and decisions about good and bad choices is in revision.

Here’s what NOT to do in the middle:

Don’t introduce too many new characters. The middle isn’t where you want to start a whole lot of new threads.

Don’t suddenly shift to a completely unrelated plotline out of desperation.

Don’t resolve your main tension too early unless you have a stronger one to finish with.

And above all, don’t stop writing just because it feels hard or messy.

The middle of your novel looks skeletal and unfinished. It’s like the frame of a house. It’s something, but it’s hard to know what exactly at this point.

Keep writing, keep building, in the middle. The blueprint exists in your subconscious. Keep pushing forward until the blueprint reveals itself.

The only way through it is to push through. Just like with the beginning, you need to write one scene at a time and build on what you wrote before.

A FINAL IMPORTANT SUGGESTION

Let me propose something that some of you might embrace. Yes, the middle is challenging. But instead of thinking of it like many do (especially many writing in writing advice books), try to think of it as an opportunity. It can be a place where you use your creativity to come up with exciting additions and creations to your characters, setting, and story. Have fun with it or at least approach it like a chance to use an essential part of your writing—your imagination. Embrace this part of your novel, which is, after all, essential to developing your story.

 How To Build Your Novel: Step 5, Start framing, move on from beginning

So you’ve started your novel. Congrats! The foundation is laid, and the first chapters are taking shape. Now comes what might be the hardest part for discovery  writers (and even those using outlines): continuing.

I’d say a lot of writers have a crisis once they’ve got a beginning and start moving toward or into the middle of a novel.

This is where many novels die. Not because the ideas aren’t good, but because the middle is hard for every writer. Some writers, especially less experienced ones, think what they need to do is go back to the beginning and revise. WARNING, THIS CAN BE FATAL. These writers often get stuck in an endless loop of rewriting the first chapters instead of moving forward.  Think Groundhog Day for writers.

Let’s be clear: momentum is everything for discovery writers.

Every single day you write, you have two choices—move forward or circle back. Moving forward builds your novel. Circling back often kills it. (Again, this is a rule that can be broken once you know what works for you, but I would be wary of circling back, especially if you’re an inexperienced writer. The way is fraught with dangers.)

So let me make the argument for pushing forward. When you’re discovery writing, you don’t yet know what your story is truly about. Each new scene you write teaches you something about your characters, your world, your conflicts. If you keep revising the beginning, you’re working with incomplete information. You’re trying to perfect a foundation for a building whose final shape you don’t yet know.

Clearly, this is risky and likely counterproductive. And, as previously mentioned, fraught with peril.

So how do you maintain that crucial forward momentum? Here are some potential strategies.

Low Expectations. Anne Lamott famously coined the term “shitty first draft,”. Most writers write a crappy first draft. Give yourself permission to write badly. Perfectionism is the enemy of discovery. Your only job in draft one is to get the story out, mess and all. You’ll fix it later. So yes, for the first draft think low expectations! [I can’t overemphasize the importance of reverse engineering for discovery writers. More on this later, but it is just one more reason to keep writing. Reverse engineering works best when you have a draft done and an idea, however rough, of your entire story.]

The Note-and-Move-On Method: When you realize something earlier needs changing—maybe a character’s motivation or a plot point—don’t go back to fix it. Instead, make a quick note (I use bold text inside brackets like [FIX: Sarah needs to know about the key before this scene]) and keep writing as if you’ve already made that change. Your future self will handle it during revision.

The Daily Target: Set a word count or time goal for each writing session and stick to it. I like to write around 2,000-3,000 words a day. In later drafts, I might get even more because I’m revising rather than writing something new.  This can take me between 2-4 hours. If you’re a new writer, think more along the lines of 500 words a day. Pick what works for you. If you write 500 words a day almost every day, you have a draft in less than six months. If you write 1000 words a day, you'll have a draft in 2-3 months.

The Placeholder Technique: When you hit a scene you don’t know how to write yet—maybe it requires research or you’re just not sure what happens—insert a placeholder. Something like [SCENE: Karen confronts her boss about the missing files]. Then skip it and continue with the next scene you do feel ready to write. If more comes to you about the scene, add it as you move forward. If not, wait until draft two. Also, I use the same technique for notes to myself about something I need to work in or something I need to reveal later or whatever. This note strategy helps keep me engaged and thinking about the connections in a story.

The “What If?” Escape Hatch: When you’re truly stuck, ask yourself, “What’s the most interesting thing that could happen right now?” Not the most logical or the most expected—the most interesting. Then write that. Discovery writing is about following energy, not logic. You can make it logical later. REALLY. Even if you don’t know how you’re going to make something work, you can often find a way. Typically, if you’re like me, you’ll keep thinking about solving a plot problem and eventually something will come to you. Usually when you’re taking a shower or bath or walking the dogs or driving or in bed and can’t sleep (possibly because that damn problem is keeping you awake).

The No-Rereading Rule: This one is for the perfectionist. Don’t reread if you’re going to be tempted into rewriting. There are people who rewrite their first chapter again and again and again. Maybe it becomes a very good first chapter after weeks or months, BUT the writer who does this seldom moves on to chapters 2,3,4, let alone chapters 20, etc.

The “Sketching” Approach: When you’re uncertain about a scene but know you need something there, write it in “sketch” form—bare-bones action and dialogue without detail or polish. Getting the scene’s skeleton down lets you move forward, and you can flesh it out during revision.

The hardest part about discovery writing is trusting that your subconscious knows where it’s going even when your conscious mind doesn’t. There will be days when you feel completely lost in your own story. That’s normal. Use the sketch approach or the placeholder.

Then there’s the dreaded middle of the novel where discovery writers earn their stripes. Without an outline, you will hit points where you have no idea what happens next. You will be tempted to go back to the beginning and start over with a “better idea.” Resist this with every fiber of your being.

What To Do When You’re Stuck.

When working on some novels, I’ll come to a point, say about page 150 ,where I’m convinced I've written myself into a corner. Nothing makes sense. The plot seems unsalvageable. I considered trashing the whole manuscript. Instead, I force myself to write one more scene. Then another. And another. By page 200, I’ve discovered a thread that ties everything together in a way I never could have planned. But I would never have found it if I’d gone back to page one. This doesn’t happen every time I write a novel (thank God) but it has happened several times.

What about the days when you sit down and absolutely nothing comes? We all have them. On those days, give yourself a ridiculously small goal. Write one paragraph. One sentence, even. Often, that’s enough to prime the pump. If not, try writing a scene you know happens later in the book. The key is to write something that moves the story forward, even if it’s not always a chronological scene.

Remember this: your first draft has one primary job—to exist.

That’s it. It doesn’t need to be good. It just needs to be complete. Once you have a full draft, especially a first draft with an ENDING, no matter how rough, you have something real to work with. You can’t revise what isn’t written.

So, frame your novel one scene at a time. Keep moving forward. Trust that the structure will emerge, even if you can’t see it yet. And remember that every successful novelist has felt the way you may feel at some point in your novel writing—lost, uncertain, doubtful. The difference between success and failure? The success kept writing.

That’s what separates the novelists from the dreamers who would love to write a novel some day.  Not talent. Not inspiration. Just the simple, stubborn act of moving forward, one word after another, until you reach the end.

The view is worth it once you get there. If you do get there, celebrate yourself. You have done something 95% of those who talk about writing a novel never do. You’ve written a first draft from beginning to end. Congratulations!

FROM BUILDING YOUR NOVEL

Step 4: Starting Construction - The Crucial First Chapters (Tips for Discovery Writers)

Yes, the first chapters are probably the most important chapters of your novel, BUT they’re also the most likely to be rewritten—so there’s that.

The first chapters of your novel are both the most important and the most likely to be deeply rewritten later in revision. Most important because, especially in the time we live in, if you don’t get the reader very quickly, if you don’t pull them in and keep them turning pages, they will put your book down faster than a hot plate.

So, keep this in mind. You need to pull the reader into your story in the first chapters. How can you do that if you don’t know what your story is? Good question. Just get something down in draft one and realize you’ll come back to it. IMPORTANT: Do come back to it in revision once you know your story and, hopefully, the end of your story.

And here’s something else to keep in mind. INCITING INCIDENT. On a practical note: get to it as fast as possible. More on that in a bit.

First chapters are tricky. They need to hook readers, establish voice, introduce characters, hint at conflicts, and set expectations for the entire book. Oh, and they need to do all this while being compelling enough that someone keeps reading. But again, it doesn’t need to happen in the first draft. You can figure it out when you revise.

The first chapter you initially write might not even end up being your first chapter. But you do need to start somewhere, and starting strong will build your confidence and momentum. Also, it will help you find your way forward to an important early moment, the inciting incident in your story that propels the story forward.

So how do you begin when you’re a discovery writer who doesn’t know where the story is ultimately headed?

Start with action or disruption. I mean, start at a point where something is changing for your main character. The day that’s different. The moment their ordinary world cracks. Make the place you start important in some way, even if it’s not an earth-shattering way.

What you’re doing is creating narrative momentum. You’re making a promise to the reader: “Keep reading. I’m leading you to something interesting.” You’re also making that same promise to yourself. It will help you keep writing.

When introducing characters, resist the urge to tell us everything about them at once. We don’t need their full backstory in Chapter One. Show us who they are through their actions, thoughts, and dialogue in that opening situation. Let us discover them the same way you’re discovering them—gradually, through what they do and don’t do, say and don’t say. You are a discovery writer. Share your discovery with your readers.

One technique I love is starting with a character wanting something—even something small. A character in pursuit of a goal, even a mundane one, immediately creates questions in the reader’s mind. Will they get it? What stands in their way? Why does it matter to them? This helps the reader begin to care for the character and root for them, AND it creates story. I say even a mundane goal will work, but not for the entire novel. You need important goals as you move forward and for the heart of your novel.

Setting the tone happens naturally if you’re true to your voice and foundation. Is this a tense thriller? A contemplative literary novel? A whimsical fantasy? Your word choices, sentence structure, and what you choose to focus on will establish this. Trust your instincts here.

How Do You Start With Purpose While Leaving Room To Discover Story?

Now, the big question for discovery writers: how do you start with purpose while still leaving room to discover the story? The trick is to focus on immediate scenes rather than the big picture. Don’t worry about setting up plot points that will pay off 200 pages later (you can reverse engineer this later). Focus on making the current scene compelling on its own terms. You write a novel one page, one chapter at a time. The more you write, the more confident you’ll become in your choices.

Now, you do have a way to push action forward early in your novel. You make something happen to your character or your character does something that is compelling and that pushes the story forward. This is called an inciting incident. It’s what propels the story forward. In my novel, The Librarian of the Haunted Library, my protagonist leaves home and goes to New Orleans and is nearly killed but escapes and moves on. All that happens but the actual inciting incident is when he gets lost in a haunted forest and finds his way to Eden where he becomes the librarian of this magical town. (This is all done with a comic eye for exaggeration as my story is a combination of comic fantasy and horror comedy). That’s where the story really moves forward into what the whole novel will be about. You need one of these!

But as I wrote before, always remember that you’ll have a chance to revise.

Ask yourself: What’s interesting about this moment? What’s at stake for my character right now? What question does this scene raise that will make readers want to know more? This is how you build a chapter. You keep asking yourself questions that will help you develop story and character.

Common First Chapter Mistakes

Starting too early: Beginning with ordinary life before anything interesting happens for too many pages. Unless showing that ordinary life is crucial for contrast, skip ahead to something happening and get to the inciting incident as soon as you can.

Avoid Info dumping: front-loading all the world-building, character backstory, and context before the story starts moving. Resist this! Weave necessary information into active scenes instead. Don’t try to stuff your first chapters with information. You’ll bore the reader.

Really think about this: Your goal is to keep the reader turning the page. Sometimes you’ll realize you’re writing something that isn’t working or is boring or is trying to force too much information into the chapter. You’ll be telling instead of showing, but you’ll convince yourself it’s okay because it will lead the reader to some cool stuff in 50 pages.

The reader will never get to page 50. You have to focus on making every scene move the story forward or move our understanding of the character forward. Focus on developing story and, depending on what genre you write in, character first and then setting.

Opening with a dream or a character waking up is almost always a bad idea. Beware of this kind of cliché beginning (of course, you can break any “rule” like this if you do it in some interesting new way but…mostly that doesn’t happen).

If you’re stuck on how to begin, you might try one of these practical approaches:

Write three different openings for your novel, starting at different points in the story. See which one feels most energetic and intriguing.

Start in the middle of a conversation or action, then fill in context as you go.

Open with a question, statement, or observation in your character’s voice that reveals something essential about them. Then move on to something happening that relates to the observation. Then revise immediately so it is in narrative form.

Remember, your first draft’s opening chapters are not set in stone. Many discovery writers find their true beginning after writing the entire first draft. You might realize your story actually starts in what you originally wrote as chapter three. That’s fine. That’s part of the process.

What matters now is getting words on the page with enough energy and direction that you want to keep going. Your first chapters should be exciting for you to write. If you’re bored writing them, readers will be bored reading them. Let me just write that again: If you’re bored with your writing, readers will be bored.

Trust your instincts. If a particular opening feels alive to you—if it raises questions you’re genuinely curious to explore—chances are it will do the same for readers.

Now go write those first chapters. They can be messy and imperfect. What they can’t be is boring. As you’re writing those first chapters and getting excited about your story, you’ll likely have all kinds of ideas about where your story can go. Be bold. Push forward.

 Building Your Novel, Step 3: The Foundation (Tips for Discovery Writers)

Learn how to build a solid foundation for your novel as a discovery writer. Explore character-based, situation-based, and setting-based foundations with practical exercises.

You’ve got your ideas. You’ve collected your materials. Now, you need to figure out what your novel is actually about. At least, that's what the novel rests on. The foundation, to keep playing out the metaphor.

Every building needs a foundation. So does your novel. This doesn’t mean plotting out the entire story. It means identifying the core elements that everything else will build upon. For discovery writers, this is crucial. Without at least knowing what you’re building on, you might end up with a pile of scenes instead of a novel. (Just as a side note, eventually in revision, you’ll want each scene to move the story forward. A sense of progression is essential. But more on that later.)

Your foundation will be a combination of character, plot and setting and their interaction in your story. Often it will start with your character in a situation that is set in a specific place (fantastic, realistic, horrific etc.) and expand from there.

Let’s break it down:

Character-Based Foundation: 

Maybe you can’t stop thinking about a particular character. You hear their voice in your head. You know how they’d react in different situations. Their personality feels real to you.

This was the case with the first novel in my Strangely Scary Funny series, The Librarian of the Haunted Library. I knew I had this young man, who had special magical abilities and had grown up in foster care and wanted to escape the small town he was in. I knew that he would go to New Orleans first, but that was just the beginning of his journey. Did I know what the journey was? Big fat NO. I was surprised where the novel went after that, but it began with this idea of my protagonist being a potential hero on a journey.

If your foundation is character, spend time understanding who they are. Not their favorite color or what they eat for breakfast—unless those details reveal something essential. Understand what they want. What they fear. What they believe about themselves that is and isn’t true. What wound from their past still shapes their decisions. Go after their core beliefs and disbeliefs.

You don’t need to write this all down in some character bible. Just think about it. Daydream about them. Let them become real to you as you write. AS YOU WRITE. You’re a discovery writer. Discover.

Situation-Based Foundation:

Sometimes what grabs you isn’t a character but a situation—a problem, a mystery, a conflict that demands resolution.

“What if a man woke up as a giant insect?” That situation was all Kafka needed to write “The Metamorphosis.” From this foundation, he built the kind of character this might happen to and the theme of his story. A character in a situation. This is something I almost always get to as I’m constructing my novel.

“What if dinosaurs were brought back to life in the modern world?” That question was the foundation of Jurassic Park. It needed the right cast of characters to make it interesting and compelling. It needed the right story to keep the suspense moving things forward. That will come as you build the novel.

If your foundation is a situation, spend time exploring the implications. Who would be most affected by this situation? Why does it matter? What are the stakes? What complications might arise?

Setting-Based Foundation: 

Sometimes the foundation is a place—real or imagined—that feels alive with story potential. A small town in the South with good and bad people in it but with mostly average people, part good and part bad, stuck in their prejudices. A white woman accuses a Black man of raping her. TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD.

Middle-earth was Tolkien’s foundation. The haunted Overlook Hotel was King’s foundation for The Shining. Possibly their stories focused on those settings to get their stories moving. At the very least, you can see that a great deal of the story happens because of the unique and powerful settings.

If your foundation is setting, explore that world. What are its rules? Its history? Its secrets? What kind of people inhabit it? What conflicts naturally arise there?

Let’s say you want to write a novel about a city where memories can be extracted, bottled, and consumed by others. That’s an interesting setting. Now you start deciding other things. Do you want this to be a fantasy or Scifi novel? Do you want it to be comic in tone or dramatic? What kind of character do you want to move the novel in this world? What tension can you establish early on? There are so many ways to go from this simple beginning.

Here’s the thing about foundations: they need to be solid, but they don’t need to be complete. You don’t need to know everything about your character, situation, or setting before you start. You just need to know enough that it feels real and generative to you. In other words, you can build on it!

How do you know when your foundation is strong enough? When it starts generating questions you’re eager to explore. When it suggests conflicts and complications. When it feels like it contains multitudes.

For discovery writers, the trick is finding the balance between having enough foundation to build on and remaining open to discovery. Develop your core element just enough that it can support a story, then start writing to see what emerges.

Some practical approaches:

For character foundations: Write a scene showing your character in a moment of conflict, even if that scene never appears in your novel. See how they react under pressure.

For situation foundations, write out the ripple effects of your central situation. Who benefits? Who suffers? What unexpected consequences might emerge?

For setting foundations: Write a brief history of your setting, or describe how different types of people experience it differently.

None of these exercises should take more than an hour. They’re not about planning your novel; they’re about making your foundation solid enough to support the weight of a story.

Remember, you’re not trying to figure out the whole novel at this stage. You’re just making sure the ground under your feet is stable before you start building walls.

Many new writers make the mistake of trying to develop everything equally from the start—character, plot, setting, theme. That’s overwhelming and unnecessary. Focus on your foundation first. Let the rest emerge as you write. Also, be open to changing everything. That’s part of writing a discovery draft. Don’t forget this aspect. Nothing is written in stone unless you happen to write in stone. Which would be weird and cumbersome. Not advisable.

The beauty of this approach is that it plays to the strengths of discovery writers. We’re good at following threads, making connections, finding patterns as we go. But we need the solid start to ground us.

So, develop your foundation just enough. Then start building and see what happens.

My Amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Brian-Y...

I’ve published over twenty novels as an independent writer and had five novels traditionally published. My Strangely Scary Funny series is my most popular. It has twelve novels. I’ve earned over six figures with that series so far. I’ve never written any of these novels using a detailed outline. If you’re struggling because you think you have to be able to write an outline to write a novel, I’m here to tell you, brothers and sisters, you do not.

In the first novel in my series, I wrote thinking that I was just going to write whatever I felt like and not worry about where it went in my first draft. I wrote it fast. I tried not to think too much. I tried to let my subconscious and intuition push it forward. Even after I’d rewritten it a few times, I wasn’t sure what it was (humorous, yes, but horror, fantasy, urban fantasy, supernatural? It seemed to have a lot of genres in it), but I thought it was pretty good whatever it was. The first two reviews were terrible, and I thought, well crap. But then people started writing reviews about how much they loved the weird and unique writing and story. So then I thought, well okay, maybe I do have something here. It now has over 3000 reviews and well over a thousand five- star reviews. The second novel in the series has over 1000 reviews. I’m still not sure what it is, but whatever it is, it’s uniquely mine.

Write what you love to write. Trust your instincts in the first draft. Revise. Be more critical in revision, but be careful not to kill what makes your writing uniquely yours. Then rewrite again. Then, hope for the best and get started on your next novel as soon as you can.

Good luck!