Discovery Writers In Step 7 Discover Their Ending

 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.

Discovery Writers: Build Your Novel: Step 4, Crucial First Chapters (most important and also voted most likely to be rewritten)

 

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.

12 Steps to Write a Novel Without an Outline: A Guide for Discovery Writers

Discover how to write a novel without an outline using this 12-step guide for discovery writers. Gain courage, beat fear, and write that novel you've been wanting to write for years.

I'm going to expand on the two posts on building a novel I recently wrote by going deeper into the various points of those posts. There will be twelve new posts, one every week, for the next twelve weeks showing you how to build a novel from beginning to end. Hope it helps. Brian

12 Steps to Write a Novel Without an Outline: A Guide for Discovery Writers

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 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.

Building a Novel:

Step 1: Breaking Ground - The Leap of Faith

So you can’t outline. Welcome to the club. I’ve been writing novels for years, and I’ve never been able to outline worth a damn. Every time I try, my creativity shrivels up like a raisin in the sun. That’s okay. There are plenty of successful novelists who don’t outline. Steven King, Toni Morrison, Ray Bradbury, Neil Gaiman, Elizabeth Strout, Donna Tartt, George Saunders, Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams—to name just a few.

WHY FEAR IS NORMAL FOR WRITERS

Starting a novel without an outline is terrifying. It’s like jumping off a cliff and trying to build wings on the way down. I get it. The blank page stares at you accusingly. Your mind rebels at the idea, and fear sets in. How can I possibly do this? Where do I even start? If I do get started, where do I go after the start? I’ve written a few pages, but I need hundreds. How can I know what comes next and next and next? It’s impossible. Hundreds of pages? It’s impossible.

Breathe. This fear is normal. Every novelist—even the famous ones—feels this fear. The difference between writers and wannabe writers isn’t talent or outlines. It’s that writers write despite the fear. They put one word after another and another and they keep going.

If you’re waiting for certainty before you begin, you’ll never write a word. Novel writing is an act of faith. You have to trust that your subconscious mind knows things your conscious mind doesn’t. You have to believe that if you keep showing up to the page, the story will reveal itself to you.

“But what if I waste months writing and it turns out terrible?” you ask.

Here’s a secret: your first draft WILL suck. Mine always do. Almost everyone’s do. First drafts aren’t about perfection—they’re about discovery. They’re about finding out what your story is. The “discovery” in discovery writing is essential. So, cut yourself some slack on your first draft. Low expectations. Start there. Know that you can improve whatever you write with revision.

The perfectionist in you is your biggest enemy. That voice that says, “This isn’t good enough” You’ve got to try to silence it. That aspect of you doesn’t get a vote right now. Its turn comes in revision.

HOW TO START YOUR NOVEL

Start with anything. A character who fascinates you. A situation that raises questions. A setting that gives you chills. A scene that you see in your mind. That’s enough. That’s your foundation.

I’ve started all my novels with only vague notions. Sometimes I began with an image, like a man out in the woods who sees something he shouldn’t or a sheriff who wakes up in his bed but can’t remember getting there. Sometimes it was an idea. I wanted to write about a boy who had never had a home or family and who found both by leaving his town and going on a voyage of self-discovery. Or an alien invasion that takes only thirty seconds because we are so primitive compared to our invaders. Sometimes it’s a theme. Like the struggle to have relationships in our complicated world.

Start with a scene that thrills you. Do your best to express what thrills you, and you’re on your way.

Don’t worry about writing in order. If you know a scene that happens somewhere in the middle, write it. If you have a flash of dialogue but don’t know where it fits, write it down anyway. These are the bricks you’ll use to build your novel.

The goal isn’t to write a perfect novel in one go. The goal is to get words on the page that you can shape later. Remember this: you can’t revise a blank page. You can revise the crap out of ones with words on them.

 Another consideration is always time. You don’t have to force yourself to write for hours in the beginning.

 Fifteen minutes of focused writing is better than an hour of start and stop and check my email and watch cat videos writing. Write one paragraph and then another. Do your best to see what you’re trying to show the reader.  The simple act of putting words on the page will generate more words.

Discovery writing feels chaotic. Embrace the chaos. Let your characters surprise you. Follow narrative threads that intrigue you. Take unexpected turns. The joy of discovery writing is finding out what happens next along with your reader. At the same time, be mindful that you are writing to a reader. Think of yourself as a reader or a watcher of shows or movies. What do you love? What do you hate?

Keep a notebook for ideas that pop up as you write. Maybe you realize your main character needs a childhood trauma that shapes her decisions. Maybe you see a potential plot twist. Jot these down, but don’t stop your forward momentum to incorporate them yet. That’s what revision is for.

Trust yourself. Your brain knows more about storytelling than you think it does. You’ve been absorbing story structure since you were a child. Those patterns are in you, even if you can’t articulate them.

Some days, the words will flow like a mountain stream. On other days, each sentence will feel like you’re walking through knee-deep snow. Both days count. Both move you forward. Also, here’s a weird thing: sometimes the knee-deep snow days are a lot better than you think they are. Sometimes, reading them over later, they look pretty much like the flow-like-a-mountain-stream days.

Remember, even with an outline, novelists still face uncertainty. Characters rebel. Plot holes emerge. The perfect structure in your mind falls apart in execution on the paper. You have to struggle through them. Again, it’s better than real life. You get a chance to rewrite, revise. You get do-overs.

So take that leap of faith. Write the first sentence. Then the next. And the next. Keep going until you reach the end. It won’t be pretty, but it will be something. Something real. Something you created from nothing.

And that, my fellow writers, is magic.

Next time you feel that fear, remember that every novel begins with uncertainty. Every novelist faces doubt. The only way through is forward. One word at a time.

Now go break some ground.

My amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Brian-Yansky/author/B001H6UHHW?ref

 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 I've written here, 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, 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.