My process for writing a novel begins with an initial idea. It may have come from various places: a conversation I overheard, a news article. I read, a random idea that popped in my head, and so far.
Once I have what, I think, is a good idea for a novel, I allow myself to jot down notes and think about it for a month or two. What would the narrative arc look like? What characters and locations? What would be the structure of the novel? Tone? Style? I might even think of some ideas for particular scenes or chapters.
The next stage is to begin outlining. I use a template to begin this stage. I usually do it on a computer so I can move lines around, add new ones in between other others, until I have what I envision. I try to finish the entire outline in a few days. Then, it sits for a while as I continue to ruminate on it, returning to edit the outline periodically. It can change significantly during this phase. (It’s also true that once I begin writing the first draft, I may deviate from the outline or introduce changes to it. I do keep the outline updated so it matches the first draft and subsequent drafts, as a way to have a big picture of view of the novel.)
If you wish to use my template, or are just curious as to how I go about, preparing to write a novel, you may download it by clicking the button. (it’s currently a PDF, although you can select the text and paste it anywhere you want. If I get enough requests, I could also provide a Microsoft Word or Apple Pages document.
Below is the filled out template for my current work in progress, a novel entitled Seven Planets. This was the outline before I begin writing. The narrative portion differs significantly from the one in this outline, as you can notice if you have read the excerpts I have posted on this website.
Chapter 1: Signal in the Void
Setting Overview
Neptune Orbital Observatory (NOO-7): A skeletal relic at Lagrange point L4, hull scarred by impacts, frost clinging in jagged patterns under flickering lights. The lab module is cluttered—tangled cables, coffee-stained datapads, faded star charts. A cracked viewport warps Neptune’s blue storms and Triton’s faint crescent. Air sharp with burnt circuits and stale coffee, hiss from a failing recycler.
Hangar Bay: Cramped and shadowed, littered with tools and frost. The battered shuttle Ecliptic squats on uneven gear, engines rumbling low.
Characters
- Dr. Elias Vorn: 42, lean and weathered, hazel eyes dulled by guilt. Graying hair mussed, stubbled jaw. Faded jumpsuit stained with coffee and grease. Clutches a scratched datapad.
- Echo-9: Station AI with a crackling, glitched voice—“effi-shency.” Faint glow on a dusty console amid cobwebs and dead flies.
- Dr. Halen (Recording): Flickering holo-ghost: wild gray hair, manic eyes, warning of “signals” before static swallows him.
Themes
- Isolation and Guilt: Elias’s self-imposed exile for a deadly failed experiment.
- Discovery and Curiosity: The signal stirs his buried scientific drive.
- Foreshadowing of Judgment: The signal’s rhythmic pulse hints at cosmic trials ahead.
Detailed Chapter Outline
Description: Elias slouches at his workstation, chipped mug of lukewarm synthetic coffee in hand. Acrid aroma mixes with metallic frost on the walls. The station creaks under Neptune’s tug. Behind him, the cracked viewport casts cold blue storm-light across his lined face. Room chaotic: teetering datapads, sagging star charts, monitor humming with red radiation spikes.
Action: He scrolls logs on the datapad: temperature -210°C, old flare alerts. His eyes read with mechanical disinterest. Mutters, “Three years of nothing. Fitting end for a fraud.” Sips coffee, grimaces, wipes mouth on stained sleeve.
Sub-Event: Holo-log console sputters alive. Dr. Halen flickers: wild hair, darting eyes. “Signals…out there.” Loops twice, cuts to static. Coffee sloshes onto Elias’s jumpsuit. He curses softly, “Damn ghosts,” swipes at the stain, but his gaze lingers, curiosity grow.
Internal Monologue: Halen lost it years before I got here, raving about signals no one else heard. Probably just static… but out here? After all this time? The thought gnaws, stirring the buried scientist beneath his cynicism.
Sensory Details: Machinery hum vibrates through the chair, syncing with his heartbeat. Frost glints like shattered glass under blue light. Coffee’s bitterness stings cracked lips.
