The structure of creativity

Are there recipes for writing? Yes, and we're sharing one of them.

Hi beautiful!

We’re wondering . . . did you watch last week’s video on trying on different personas to shift your thinking and add a pinch of play into the pudding? We’d love to hear how it’s going!

And . . . we have an update: Maia had a break through on a plot point that was gumming up the novel-writing works. You might recall, she was feeling creatively stuck in June. (Raise your hand if you resonate!)

Maia is very in-betweeny right now— her house is on the market, she is smack in the middle of selling her business of twenty years, and she is planning a move to the UK. In other words, many things are up in the air. Add to it all, the many unknowns of a new creative project (her novel) and . . . well, it’s a wonder her head is still on straight.

A few weeks back, Maia reported that she’s been working her way through her NYTimes Recipe Box instead of writing. Although her first response was to scold herself for baking-based procrastinating (raise your hand if you resonate), her second response was to get curious. And as she shopped, chopped, stirred, and plated, her mind kept returning to the idea of structure.

What is the function of structure in creativity? she wondered. Why do so many creatives resist it?

She was noticing that adding structure through cooking was doing some subtle restructuring of her subconscious. Dreams began flowing. And one morning she woke up knowing the answer to the plot-point riddle. Structure might just be the magic bean needed to grow this beanstalk.

While never fond of an outline, Maia had to admit that in her years of writing book proposals she had learned that doing the work of creating an outline— A.K.A. getting clear on structure— made all the future writing easier. Once the underpinnings were sound, the writing became weightless.

With this in mind, Maia marched out of the kitchen and back to her desk. She pulled out her trusty old “beat sheet”— a phrase borrowed from movie scripts — and got to work on re-examining the structure for her novel in light of the latest plot point discovery.

So…instead of sharing words from her novel, she’s giving us the inside scoop on the beat sheet itself. For the writers here, you’re getting something priceless. For the non-writers here, you might find the below a bit boring— instead, why not consider what might flourish freely in your life, if only they had a tad more structure?

Maia’s Beat Sheet

I first started playing with this beat sheet when I was working on The Night School. There was a chapter, which got dropped from the final manuscript, that focused on the hero & heroine’s journeys. Although the chapter wasn’t included, the work I had done was invaluable when I sat down to write Letting Magic In.

This beat sheet is a mash-up of what I’ve gleaned from classes on story structure and writing how-to manuals. You’ll recognize elements of the hero and heroine’s journeys as well as ideas from various teachers and schools of thought on novels and even a sprinkling of the progress through the major arcana in tarot. It’s meant to remind me of story arc and how to keep the characters moving forward.

It was fun to type this up in a more formal way for you. If you have better names for the beats, let me know in the comments!

Here’s how I use this outline:

First, I create an annotated outline by adding a few sentences about each scene. Then I cut and paste my annotated outline into my working document and, as I write, I keep expanding each section.

What this has looked like in practice (keep in mind I’ve only done this a few times!), is I start at the beginning of the story and write. As I write, and the characters/story takes shape, I jump ahead and make notes in future acts and scenes. In this way, the outline shifts as I learn more about the characters and the story. After a few weeks, the outline bears little resemblance to the annotated outline I started with.

Things to note:

• All scene and word counts are approximate. I keep them in front of me to help me keep the shape of the book from becoming screwy.

• A “beat” might be one scene or multiple scenes and the exact order might get mixed about a bit.

• After trying various writing programs over the years, I now simply use a Word document. I don’t do anything fancy with it so I end up scrolling a lot. I’m okay with that. When I used a program that let me divide my writing into Acts and Scenes, I found I wasn’t good at intentionally moving around the compartmentalized sections. By having one document, I constantly re-encounter my own notes and this helps keep me on track.

• Finally, this sheet is specific for writing with a story arc. For other non-fiction, I create a structure appropriate to the specific book before writing.

BEATS for ACT ONE [1/4 of manuscript— 20k words— 14 scenes]

1. The ordinary: like in the hero’s journey, we begin in the ordinary world. This is not just about setting the physical scene, it’s about establishing the ordinary mindsets of the characters— who they think they are and what they think they care about.

2. The crack: we begin to see what the protagonist will be struggling with throughout the story. This is the reader’s first glimpse of the window through which change will blow in. It’s what let’s us know there’s actually a story to be told about this otherwise ordinary world.

3. The lightening bolt: I love Alan Watt’s way of thinking about this story beat. He asks us to describe a day or event unlike any other. He reminds us that for Romeo and Juliette, a day unlike any other was the day R first sees J. In other words, it’s an event that primes characters for a pivot— mental, emotional, or physical— an event that changes what is possible for the future, but it doesn’t need to be a huge cataclysm.

4. The debate: A multi-scene beat where the protagonist debates what he or she will do next in response to the changes brewing because of the lightening bolt event. Antagonists are presenting multiple paths forward. The purpose of this beat is to show how and why the protagonist is reluctant to change.

5. The bridge: By making a choice, the protagonist crosses over into something or someplace new. This scene introduces a new way of thinking and is the bridge between the beginning (Act 1) and middle (Act 2) of the story.

BEATS for ACT TWO [1/2 the manuscript— 40k words— 28 scenes]

6. The meet up: A new force comes into the protagonists life— maybe a character, a job, a new puppy. Ultimately whoever or whatever is introduced here serves to help the protagonist figure out who they are and what they want.

7. The new normal: The protagonist is settling into, and beginning to understand, the implications of their decision at the bridge. They think their journey is over and don’t realize this new normal is just a pit stop. They are about to move from surface level problems deeper into the roots of the matter.

8. The teeter-totter: In order to continue their growth trajectory, the protagonist needs to commit to the changes they made when they crossed the bridge. But they’re beginning to understand the full picture of their new normal and they are questioning what they committed to. This is the ‘shit or get off the pot’ moment— the protagonist needs to decide if they are in or out. This scene happens at about the midpoint of the manuscript.

9. The smack down: The protagonist begins to question if they can truly get what they want… or if what they thought they wanted at the beginning of the story was indeed what they need. They begin to wonder if they’ve gotten it all wrong and perhaps even regret the choices that brought them to this point. Note that this doesn’t necessarily mean life looks dismal from the outside: the protagonist might have a glossy career that leaves them feeling dead inside. Another brilliant Alan Watt quote: The protagonist begins to question the meaning they attached to their goal.

10. The chrysalis: Often called the dark night of the soul, this is the place where the protagonist truly surrenders to the forces of change in their life. They realize that the only way through is to shed their old skin. This is a cumulative realization, not something that happens in one awful moment, and is the gateway to releasing their old identity and stepping into a new way of seeing themselves.

11. The awakening: To break out of the chrysalis, the protagonist must begin to shift their internal landscape in order to fix external issues they are encountering.

    
    ACT THREE [1/4 of manuscript— 20k words— 14 scenes]

12. The acceptance: This is when the protagonist finally realizes they will never become who they want to be if they carry on with their current way of thinking and approach to life. They accept that they have to make fundamental changes to what they want in order to get what they actually need. They also have to clean up the messes they made in Act Two.

13. The plan: Once the protagonist accepts the depth of change required to move forward, they begin to execute their decision. This often involves calling in friends or family, making amends, and letting go of objects and people who don’t serve them.

14. The last battle: This is the final obstacle, the moment when the protagonist must prove that they truly have the strength — internal or external— to be who they are becoming. Have they changed? To what extent? When everything is on the line, what will they do? This scene happens at the very end of the story.

15. The end: In this final scene, we learn how the protagonist is settling into themselves. Perhaps we see how they are relating differently to other characters or how they are framing and understanding their journey. What is the meaning they are giving to what they have been through in the story?

Phew! Now we’re beat! But also inspired (and clear) on where and how our creativity can unfold.